#or get tetanus from a rusty pipe

[invi-official]

Absolutely! Speaking of which... Chirithy says you've been sneaking around the tower's waterways. Please stop for your own safety.

are Chirithys part of a hivemind? 🤔

[bugsbenefit]

Mike's og character design having a birthmark is really cool i think but also related gripe i have with the show is them not giving him a scar post s3 which would have been in the exact location the birthmark would have been in originally. perfect set up and then they fumbled the prime opportunity to make a homage to their original idea

the show always picks and chooses when to be medically accurate. like how Steve never needing immediate medical attention after the multiple blunt hits he got over the head is an actual miracle. but it's easy enough to suspend disbelief on that since people get knocked out and get back up again in movies all the time. everyone's used to that

but actual bleeding wounds are a lot weirder to just magic away especially when Jonathan and Nancy both got lasting scars from something as clean as a knife cut in the same show

face skin already scars incredibly easy to begin with and on top of that the cut Mike gets is the opposite of the clean knife cut J/ancy made. that's from getting his face forcefully smashed into a metal pipe and giving it's bleeding like that (unlike Max who only got bruises, no broken skin from hitting the wall) he seems to have either hit a valve/edge or the blunt force was That much. that wound lining is going to be jagged as fuck either way, no way that heals cleanly irl (only upside here is the mall being built as a cover for a new military base so the pipe's at least not rusty, small wins. low tetanus risk who cheered)

i get why they'd ignore it from a technical perspective. giving a character facial scars is always tricky since you need to make sure it's in the exact right place every day with how obvious even small placement errors would be. i get they avoided the hassle. still, fumble imo, would have been really cool. kind of more surprised i've not seen more fans go with medical accuracy on this, that's things fandom usually jumps on. i've seen no art and like one fic go with that scar now that i think about it

anyway that's the closest canon got us to the birthmark territory but then they didn't L

[rexscanonwife]

Good morning everypony! I hope you're all doing well and you got enough rest 🥺 I didn't lol but here I am heading to work like always

I'm thinking about my fairly oddparents s/i ideas and stuff I was spitballing with my bff last night! Not sure how far I'll actually go with it but I would like to make a more solid design, and as y'all know I've been really enjoying the rewatch! I was thinking of her being a fairy who's still relatively new and starts shadowing Cosmo and Wanda as part of a sort of experimental training program! And over time she gets used to their wacky shenanigans with Timmy and becomes like a part of their fambily...🥺👉👈

But then as I was watching the show last night I remembered Chester and the fact that he doesn't have any fairies (Norm for a brief while doesn't count) despite ACTUALLY living in a trailer park and I decided that eventually endgame would be my s/i becoming HIS fairy! And lemme tell ya...he stresses her THE FUCK OUT 😂😂😂 I feel like (aside from writing reasons) that never happened because he's generally a pretty happy kid, his dad seems really loving but COME ON MAN. Kid probably plays with tetanus-ridden rusty pipes and boards with nails through them, he can wish for a toy or two and maybe some food! I've decided henceforth to adopt him 💖💖

[emelinstriker]

Okay so I'm wanting to draw some art of my 'reader' with the bois at some point (work and school have been draining my creative juices lately but I might get some sketches done soon) and just

I wanted to share that I have an idea for how Mink and I would get along

I am someone who regularly bullies my friends and vice versa, we pick fun at each other for shits and giggles and I regularly say out of pocket shit to them (For example, a quote of mine from a while ago is 'I just like ‘fix it’ AUs that tell the main problem to get fucked on the side of the road with a rusty pipe with no tetanus shot for fifty miles')

So like

Copy paste. I would love Mink's behavior on a platonic level and I can and will just go to him to shit talk for any reason while also going into light hearted bullying back and forth (I'm specifically thinking of that spider man pointing mean but it's just 'BITCH! /platonic' instead xD)

Anyways don't mind my ramble, needed to get that out of my brain

Personally, I can confirm he's got that platonic best friend/older brother vibe with how he's doesn't usually like calling the Reader his Master and just his general behavior towards them. :D

[kerwinthefrog]

Prompt: "Get a job."

To my beloved moot, @rvbiddog. This prompt made me think of them.

Kerwin sat on the rusty barstool, watching Frenchie take five unprescribed Adderall and tinker with the homemade pipe bomb. He sat awkwardly, trying to avoid getting tetanus from Frenchie’s ‘garage’.

“Why don’t you… get a job?” he ventured.

All tinkering stopped. Frenchie side-eyed him.

“And what do you mean by that, mon champignon [my mushroom]?”

Kerwin cleared his throat, fiddling with the flaking paint on the stool, “Well, you just seem to do stuff for The Boys, none of which is legal. Have you ever thought about ditching the drugs and bombs and, you know, getting a real job?”

“Are you telling me to, what’s the phrase, ‘put the fries in the bag’?” Frenchie mocked. Kerwin bristled, snatching the Adderall bottle from the Frenchman.

“I’m serious, man. What are you going to do when The Boys disband?”

Frenchie’s brows pinched, he was starting to get frustrated, “You’re always telling me to get a job, but I don’t see you working, infection fongique [fungal infection].”

“I have a job!” He defended, “I work at Vought.”

“Undercover. Illegally.”

Oof. He had him there.

Kerwin raised his hands in a placating gesture, running his gloved fingers along Frenchie’s intricate tattoos. As always, the man mellowed out immediately. 

“We’ll get jobs together, then,” he offered.

“Tu vas être ma mort [You’re going to be the death of me].”

[skyloftian-nutcase]

This is yet another ask of a autor putting their character though the worst injures they can think of

This character is knocked unconscious by someone hitting the back of their head with a pipe (enough force to both knock the MC out instantly and throw them a bit against the ground). While unconscious they are hidden in what’s essentially an empty oil drum to hide and transport them. They were shoved in quite roughly as the person who attacked them though they were dead (they have a bounty on their head) but it’s large enough to fit the MC as she is rather small. The issue is, this oil drum is rusty and has some sharp/rough edges. What kinds of injures would the poor MC get from this situation

Well… ouch. 😅

My first thought with getting slammed with a freaking pipe is a skull fracture and/or head bleed. And then, you know, scrapes and cuts and tetanus 👍🏻

[courtforshort15]

The Hypocrite of Hell's Kitchen

Pairing: Matt Murdock x GNReader

Word Count: 1,900

Summary: You end up in the emergency room. Matt is a total goddamn hypocrite.

Trigger warning: brief discussion of blood

Masterlist

"I hope you know how extremely hypocritical this is."

"Feel free to submit a complaint; someone will get back to you in 5-7 business days." There's a ghost of a smile on his lips as he tilts his head so that his sightless eyes are aimed in your general direction.

"Matt," you groan, throwing your head back against the stiff hospital pillow, the fabric scratching at the back of your neck uncomfortably. Sleeping on silk sheets for as long as you have now means everything else feels nearly intolerable. "We both know you could have done this at home."

"Probably," he admits with a shrug, though you know he's taking this much more seriously than his tone suggests. "But you fell onto a rusty nail, and you can't remember the last time you got a tetanus shot."

"It was probably within the last eight or nine years," you mumble under your breath.

"Probably isn't good enough, not with this. We're not taking the risk." He squeezes your hand gently as a needle with a local anesthic pierces your skin to the left of the long, jagged cut on your leg. You wince. Claire's already made sure to give you the tetanus vaccine, and with stitches on the horizon, you're starting to feel like one of those pin cushions people store their push pins and sewing needles in.

"But still--"

"No," he interrupts, not letting you get a word in to argue your case. The man is good at speaking over people when needed, a characteristic that is no doubt beneficial in court, but you roll your eyes at the fact he's using that skill on you while you're about to be stitched up. "This isn't related to any...nefarious dealings, not like with me. We have insurance for a reason. There's no harm in having you looked at in an actual hospital."

You curse him under your breath, knowing he can hear you. His mouth twitches into a quick grin reserved only for you.

"He's right, you know," Claire pipes up as she places the used needle in the disposal box. She's smirking slightly, even as she rolls her eyes at Matt. "Can never be too careful when it comes to rusty nails."

"I don't see you admonishing Matt like that," you say defensively. "He's the one who needs to take more care when it comes to things like rusty nails."

"I gave up on him a long time ago."

Matt lets out a loud sigh as he shakes his head. "I also know that I am up to date on my tetanus shot, so they don't pose as much of a danger to me."

"Yeah, sure, let's pretend that's the only thing I need to worry about when you go out at night," you tell him. You look away from him when you see Claire shift out of the corner of your eye as she begins to pull out the tools she'll need to stitch up your leg.

Your breath catches, eyeing the needle, and you know he hears it. His head lowers towards yours, a soft sympathetic sound rumbling in his chest.

"Another reason why I didn't want to do this at home, sweetheart," he whispers to you as he tightens his grip on your hand before tenderly bringing it to his mouth for a soft kiss. "I'd much rather be the one holding your hand, not the one sewing you up."

"Hypocrite," you repeat, though you say it fondly. "A bloody limb needing stitches is almost standard for you."

"For me, yeah," he agrees. His blank eyes are soft, and you'll never know how he manages to covey so much emotion through them, despite not being able to see. "It's different when you're involved."

"I still could have done this without the anesthesia," you argue faintly. It's a lie, an absolute fucking lie. Your pain tolerance is nearly non-existent, and you know he knows it, too. "And I don't need you to hold my hand through everything. I would have been okay if you'd patched me up yourself."

"I feel better knowing you're not in pain," he says gently. "It's better this way."

"Better for me? Or better for you?"

He smiles and leans down to kiss the top of your head, but doesn't answer. You sigh, using your other hand to pull him down to sit on the gurney with you. He doesn't fight you, just lets you lead him until he's snug up against you, and the warmth of his body is a comfort on its own. Your leg is propped up on a pillow in front of you, and he uses the opportunity to rub his palm gently over your knee cap, just a few inches up from the gash you'd acquired while walking home from work.

Someone had accidentally bumped into you, causing you trip into a pile of wood that was, for some stupid reason, piled on the left side of the sidewalk. A sharp, oxidized nail pierced the skin in your leg as you fell down, and it had proceeded to tear a long, ragged cut into the soft flesh.

Matt had all but torn the front door off its hinges not 45 seconds after you'd gotten home, face pale and full of panic, no doubt having smelled your blood long before you'd made it home.

He wasn't very happy to find you hurt, demanding why you hadn't given him a phone call to let him know where you were so that he could come help you home. He was even less happy when you tried to pass it off as a mere scratch, arguing that it just needed to be cleaned and bandaged.

His head tilted in the way it always did when he was focusing in on something, and his eyebrows rose as he narrowed in on the napkins you still held in your hand, having stolen them from a coffee shop in effort to clean up the blood on your way home. They were almost completely soaked through.

Matt didn't even need to feel the skin around the slice in your leg to know it needed stitches, and he absolutely refused to take care of it at home. He was willing to take beating after beating every night, but he wasn't willing to patch you up if giving you stitches would cause you more pain. Claire had just started working at a hospital that was only a few blocks away, and Matt wouldn't hear any argument against taking you there. A cab was outside your apartment building less than five minutes later.

What an overprotective, uncompromising hypocrite.

"You'll feel a little tugging sensation here and there, but you shouldn't feel any pain," Claire interrupts your thinking as she sits on a chair and rolls it until she's to the left of the gurney you're laying on. She moves your leg until it's at an angle that works for her, and picks up the needle that's she's placed on the small cart next to her.

You glance away again, focusing on the man who has tucked you into his side, arm thrown over your shoulders. You're in a semi-public space, but he's not wearing his glasses. He knows you will always, always prefer seeing his whole face, will always prefer seeing his beautiful eyes instead of the sharp red lenses, and the fact that he removes them while not in a private setting says a lot. He's willing to make himself uncomfortable to help you feel safe and secure while a needle presses in and out of your skin.

You don't deserve him, but he's still there beside you, every step of the way. He whispers into your ear how much he loves you, and how well you're doing, and you make a sound of derision in the back of you throat.

"This is nothing compared to the shit you go through on a weekly basis, Matt," you point out, avoiding the urge to shift away from the needle going in and out of your skin. You don't feel anything, but the sight of it still sends your stomach rolling.

He hushes you with a gentle finger over your mouth. "It's not a competition," he insists, tilting your head up and pressing a quick kiss on your lips.

His hands are soft and light on your skin as he runs them up and down your arm, your thigh, anywhere he can touch. There are plenty of forehead kisses and hand squeezes in between the snarky comments he passes back and forth with Claire.

Though the stitches are uncomfortable, you find yourself grinning in satisfaction as Claire uses some of her time to call Matt out on his hypocrisy, telling him that she'd have a better sleep schedule if he took as good of care of his own body as he does yours.

"Have I told you how much I love you, Claire?" You ask, smirking at her as she continues stitching your skin together. "Because I absolutely live for every opportunity we get to gang up on Matt."

She snorts, and Matt sends you a dry look. "I haven't heard it yet today, but you know the feeling is absolutely mutual."

"I should have never introduced the two of you," he grumbles, though he doesn't look necessarily upset at the teasing. "That was the biggest mistake of my life."

"Hush," you tell him, nudging him with your shoulder. "We both know that's a lie. You love us fawning over you."

Matt immediately objects. "There's a big difference between fawning and whatever shit you think you need to call me out on."

"There's a ton of shit to call you out on, though," you say innocently, and Claire huffs a laugh, the sound indicating she agrees with you. "You just make it so easy."

Matt's face tells you he's amused despite his objections. "Be quiet and let Claire work," is all he tells you in response. You shrug your shoulders, smile widening when he squeezes your hand and rubs a thumb over the back of it.

When she's done, she gives you instructions on how to care for them over the next week or so. Matt hounds her with questions, and the two of you look at each other in exasperation, knowing that half the things Claire is recommending are things he never does for himself.

You make it home uneventfully, and Matt picks you up in his arms once you're safely inside the apartment building, reluctant to let you take one more step if no one is around to question a blind man's ability to carry you to your front door. You protest loudly, but he ignores it, especially because he knows you secretly love being held by him like this.

He lowers you to the couch, handing you the remote so you can put on your favorite TV show, and you make sure it's set up with audio descriptions. Without prompting, your favorite blanket is brought to the couch from the bed you share, and your favorite dinner is eventually placed in your lap as he settles down at your side, ready to pull you into him once you're done eating.

"You're still a hypocrite," you mumble into his chest as he wraps the blanket around you both a little tighter, careful of the injured leg you've propped up on his hip.

"That's a strong possibility," he whispers in your ear. You watch drowsily as the gold of his wedding band catches the light when he moves to push your hair behind your ear. "But you're the one thing I won't compromise on, sweetheart. And that's not going to change."

[lhs3020b]

Meow

I have played, and finished, the Cat Game.

Thoughts below the cut, with spoilers from this point on...

Stray has been 2022′s token pleasant surprise - I only became aware this game existed a few days ago, and it has proved a refreshingly different gaming experience.

As the name suggests, you play a stray cat - or, more accurately, a cat who has become separated from their little feline colony. You briefly get to meet your cat friends at the start of the game.

The separation sequence is absolutely heart-breaking. I will admit I got very close to crying during it!

This game is an emotive journey; you will feel things as you play it.

Basically, what happens at the start is that after trying to jump across a gap, things go wrong and the pipe you land on breaks. You are sent tumbling down into a deep hole. There’s no way to climb back up. The only possible way out is through the weird environment you find yourself in. This turns out to be a place called the Dead City.

Strictly, it’s not quite as dead as the name suggests, there is still some plantlife and there are (some) robotic inhabitants. The city was also at one point inhabited by a substantial number of humans, though we are long gone, and apparently have been gone for centuries. (The minimum timescale here seems to be at least ~350 years, and depending on how you interpret some dialogue, thousands of years isn’t impossible.)

The city is also being overrun by the zurks, horrible jumping critters that try to eat anything they encounter. Especially if it contains protein. One of the opening sections of the game involves being chased by swarms of zurks, and it was frankly pure horror.

You eventually meet B-12, an enigmatic robot drone who may hold the clues to escaping the Dead City.

The environments in the game are gorgeous. The cyberpunky-but-also-half-ruined character of the locales is evocative; you can see that this is a place that’s slowly falling apart. The inhabitants being robots, they seem to be either unaware or largely-apathetic toward the decay that surrounds them. To be fair, some of it is probably less of an issue for them (piles of rusty tin cans etc. are probably a lot “safer” for them than they are for humans - no risk of tetanus, I suppose!).

The Dead City - or, Walled City 99 to use its original name - has a few populated regions left in it. There are the Slums, there’s the Antvillage and further up, there’s at least one bit of Midtown that still has some society. However, most of it has been overrun by the zurks, and there’s an implication that the zurk-occupied regions are expanding. Plus, a lot - or even most - of the city’s basic infrastructure no longer functions. There’s apparently still electricity being supplied from somewhere, though who knows how much longer that will last?

It’s hard to figure out which of the three settled areas has it worst. On the one hand, the Slums are at the most direct risk from zurks, and also are the most isolated. On the other, though, they don’t have any Sentinels breathing down their necks. The Antvillage feels happier than the Slums - but, I do wonder about its vulnerability to zurk attacks. Midtown is up above the zurk infestation, but it’s a police state run by the Sentinels - well, insofar as anyone is running anything in this world, that is.

That’s one of the plot twists, incidentally - no-one is really in charge of anything. When you get to the Control Room, the people who ran it are long gone. Apparently the same pathogen that killed off the rest of the human population eventually reached them too. Or perhaps the 1% of Walled City 99 eventually discovered too late that there was indeed no-one left to mow their lawns (or grow them food).

One of the mysteries of the game is why the Walled City was built in the first place - B-12 mutters something about the Outside being “used up” at one point, but it’s not really clear what’s meant by that.

Also, one thing I’ve wondered about was whether the city’s roof was actually meant to be permanently-closed, or whether that was a temporary measure brought in when the intramural pandemic started. One line of evidence could argue against it - Neco Corp’s engineering of a synthetic bacterium, to consume waste matter. This of course eventually turned into the zurks. (Yes, I found the biology and evolution here a little dubious too - from “microorganism” to “bouncy thing with creepy eyes that chases you” in just a few centuries does feel a little dubious, doesn’t it?) But the zurks retain an extreme sensitivity to UV light - when the roof opens, you see the sunlight wipe them out. Perhaps this was actually Neco Corp’s original plan - using regular daylight cleansings to prevent the lower city from becoming overloaded with zurk!bacteria?

Or possibly Neco were overly-wealthy idiots with no planning at all. That possibility would fit with what else we know about them.

How the cats survived whatever happened in the outside world is never explained. Nor do we learn where Walled City 99 specifically is - some posters in-game seem to show a map-like drawing, but I couldn’t match the geography to any real place. (One translated item in Momo’s apartment does confirm that the game takes place on Earth, though.)

Also, the intramural pandemic? I’ve seen some speculation elsewhere that Neco Corp might have caused it, whether deliberately or by accident. I’ve even seen some speculation that it might have been a mutant strain of the zurk bacterium. Certainly, the complete absence of any human bones, skulls or skeletons - and there must have been a lot of bodies toward the end of the plague era - is suspicious.

We also never learn if there are or were any other walled cities. Some of the posters seem to imply that others may exist (”the world’s safest walled city” - which would suggest other, apparently-less-safe walled cities also did exist). The fact that no-one seems to have visited Walled City 99 in several centuries is also a little alarming.

And lastly, while the cat canonically survives and succeeds in opening the city, we never find out if they find their previous feline acquaintances, or if the cat is now alone in the world again.

So yes, an interesting little game with an enigmatic and evocative story.

My main criticism, such as it is, was the mechanics - unfortunately, “third person puzzle platformer with sneak-and-evasion” is basically 100% my perfect gaming Kryptonite zone. There were quite a few sections I really struggled with, and I’ll admit I got pretty frustrated with some of the zurk-chase segments. But still, as long as you’re not me, you’ll probably have a better experience of the gameplay than I did! And I did manage to complete the game, so there is that too.

[builder051]

Adverse Effects (ch.2 if you're a parking meter, what the fuck are "business hours?")

A Chasing Ghosts story

Previously, in ch1:

After a moment of frantic scanning, James’s eyes land on the party in question, and more specifically, on Tasha. Her hair piled up on top of her head, then shot through with blinding light–she may as well be a beacon of molten copper. “Yeah,” James confirms. "I see her." He doesn’t know how he could miss her. But then the Subaru turns off its lights and cuts its engine, and everything outside Steve’s car goes dark again.

__________________________

Acquainted now with their surroundings, James sees Tasha and a number of others enter the club.

"Do you think Tasha and Maria are with that big guy?" James wonders aloud. He'd warned her about athletes. They don't deal, and they won't make deals, unless they're from a pro organization or the Olympic team. Anything else becomes a scandal. Unless you're Tasha, with the looks and the charm and lucky pennies. And the ability to recount the drunken details, heavy on code words and time lapses, to her... what exactly? Trusted adult? A role James is happy to keep filling to keep his sister safe. Hence the mission.

"I don't think so," Steve answers.

"Oh." James forces his mind back to the current conversation. "Do you know him?"

"Uh," Steve hesitates. He puts on his blinker for a moment as he peers down an intersecting alley and squints, looking, James supposes, for parking. "Jim might know his brother, I think?

James reaches across and turns off Steve's flasher. "You'll get your tires slashed if you go down that way."

"Why?" Steve merges back onto the main road.

"I just..." It's that section of neighborhood, the shitty part, built around the time the University District was established. Unlike the suburbs directly off campus, the houses here weren't renovated. Weren't large enough to rent out as flatshares. Owning one was probably a relief, a place to shelter the family. Definitely not someone's pride and joy. With no incentive to clean up, rusty fences separated the houses. People had dogs. Broken down cars. Kids who learned to work and had no concept of play. They'd figure out how to put screaming eagle pipes on an old, rattling moped. And when it was nighttime and they couldn't disturb the neighbors on their mothers' sharp orders, of course they'd find a loophole. Harass somebody else with a pen knife or some spray paint. Use the darkness as an advantage, and don't get caught. Then if the blame comes your way, it's easy enough to deflect. What? You think I did that? Naw, that was Roger. You should probably call his mom.

Luckily, James was a head taller and a shade quieter than that group of foster brothers when they were jammed into a similar establishment upstate. The younger ones took up a lot of attention, racing up and down the street, making a good diversion while James committed minor theft. Yes, he had to use a wrench to remove the tire from the bicycle before running like his life depended on it. Even though the bike in the neighbors' yard had been chained to the fence for something like half a year, and he'd only stolen it to fix his own flat, James remembers feeling a sense of something else behind the anxiety. Something thrilling. When James yanked the rusty nail out of his flat and started loosening the bolts to change his tire, he hoped he wouldn't get tetanus. Or maybe hoped he would. The straight line of healthy obedience was torture compared to what he'd just uncovered. Who knew stealing some stupid bike tire would unveil a whole world of...stuff. Independence. Opportunities. Danger. Things to tell Tasha. Things to warn Tasha.

When the streetlights came on and James chained up his bike out back, he was excited to meet Tasha at the door. She wasn't letting him in, though. They were just passing like ghosts in the wind.

James took in Tasha's short white dress and white Converse sneakers, which looked as if they'd been wiped down with bleach. "Where are you going?"

Tasha shrugged. Gestured vaguely up the street.

"You shouldn't steal shit at night," James warned, whispering between his teeth. "Everybody's dog is going to wake up."

"Why would I steal anything?" Tasha gave James an inquisitive look. "What're you hiding?"

James stood up straight and leaned against the door frame with one arm. He thought maybe it drew attention to the fact that he had the advantage in height, weight, and age. "I asked you first."

"Friend's house," Tasha said simply, though her expression fluctuated from neutral to worried and maybe fearful before taking on the exasperated pout that's clearly meant for James.

Without knowing if she has permission, or where exactly she intends to go, or what bloody fuck she can even have stashed in the miniature sparkly backpack dangling from one skinny elbow... James watches her go until she passes a bank of untrimmed bushes and is lost to the night.

"Is that street haunted?" Steve asks, unknowingly adding to the rising action of the horror movie beginning to unfold in James's head.

"Um." James clears his throat. Now. Come on. The block in his vision doesn't allow him to see far down the street, but he doesn't need to in order to make a judgement call. "If you call 12-year-olds with box cutters ghosts and goblins."

"Oh," Steve says, using the voice he puts on when he's trying not to be surprised by previously unknown differences in lifestyle. "Yeah, that wouldn't be good."

Traffic moves, and they pass the club where Tasha had entered with Maria and some bunch of unknowns. Street parking is packed with cars nose-to-tail, some more neatly than others, who have left a tire or two in the lane.

"I'm pretty sure there's more street parking on the side." James points one storefront ahead to the closed Italian restaurant, which makes up the corner of block."

"Yeah, I'll try that..." Steve glances over his shoulder, then out James's side mirror. "How do people even get here?"

"Maybe the hike around all the detours is sobering?" James puts out there.

"I don't know..."

Steve creeps up on the car in front and puts on his blinker. He's impatient, James knows.

"So... That one guy you saw in the line with Tash and Maria?" James pulls from the back of his mind. "You know him?"

"Well," Steve replies, "I don't know him, exactly, but Jim's sort of friends with his brother, so I, like, know who he is?"

"Ok." James will take it. "And he is...?"

"The-the guy?" It's finally Steve's turn to pause at the flashing red light, then take the turn around the side of the building. "Or the brother?"

James closes his eyes, but still sees, and for that matter, feels the red flash pulsating inside his corneas. "The--green shirt. That one."

"Oh. I don't know what his name is." Steve pauses after turning, taking in the entire empty parking lane.

James wishes he'd hurry up and pick one so he doesn't feel so assaulted by their randomly blinking time readers. Each flash from bright blue to dark grey may as well be another rock thrown at his head. A pebble. A boulder. Whichever size fate happens to pick up next.

"He's like, some kind of reserve linebacker?" Steve explains. "He's a senior and somehow thinks he's going to be a draft pick?" It's evident on his face that Steve's attempting to smooth over both his poor ability to parallel park and his lack of understanding the game of football.

Steve drives through the first couple of available spots before trying his best to see the muffler from inside the windshield. He wiggles the steering wheel to make the back tires move as well, then turns off the engine. "The brother works at the gym. You know, like at the desk? To swipe cards and stuff? And he's great. None of the treadmills squeak anymore. And it doesn't smell like WD-40. So much nicer to jog a mile or two without breathing in that motor oil stuff..."

James gets out of the car. He steps directly onto the curb, then uses the top of the door for stability before he's acquainted with being taller than the car. Balance. Perception. Fucking head injuries.

Steve jumps out, locks the car, and hustles to James's side. His arms are arranged at 90 degree bends, elbows at his waist and fists out in front as if they are, just now, going to take on one of those non-squeaky treadmills. "Ready?"

James might laugh. Or maybe cover his face with his palm and groan. He isn't going to endure a pep rally, no matter how gentle or authentic Steve makes it. An A for effort, but... James's head gives an especially sickening throb, and he doesn't want Steve to see him distorting his face as he scrapes backwashed coke off his tongue.

"You had to have that parking meter?" James asks, pointing at it and turning around once the wave of nausea has passed. The thing is bent, almost in half, with its head pointing diagonally skyward. The sidewalk has cracked at the meter's base, and the bright yellow 'error' message flashing on the screen reflects in even beats against the pavement.

"Well..." Steve shrugs. "The whole street is under that sign." He points. "'Business Hours Only.'"

"Business hours only..." James muses. "I'm pretty sure we're going to a business. During its operating hours."

"But--" Steve sputters. "Isn't that like 9 to 5 or something?"

"Only if you're a bank, a civilian contractor, or Dolly Parton," James says with a laugh. "Seriously, though. You're going to get towed."

Steve puffs up his chest. "Police don't patrol down here. You said so."

"Yeah, that's true." James is willing to go over it again. " They come when they're called."

"To put the bad guy in handcuffs and take him to the station so we can drive your sister home, yeah, I know..."

"No," James corrects. "The police come when they're called, and they clean up all the illegal activity in the area."

"But..." Steve's expression is stuck somewhere between bewildered and guilty. "I didn't break it. I didn't make damage to have free parking."

"Jesus fuck..." James blinks hard, then opens his eyes and pretends he can see all of Steve's face. "Ok. When you feed a meter, it counts it. Like the person in the lawn chair when you go vote? With the clicker?"

"Like, how many?"

"More like... proof you were there, and proof you didn't break the law."

"Break the law--?"

"Hold on," James takes a breath, hoping Steve will too. "Feed the meter, and your car is allowed to be there. Don't feed the meter, and the police are allowed to ticket you. Or boot you. Or tow you..."

"But you can't feed that meter," Steve points out, as if it isn't obvious. "It doesn't work. I couldn't feed it if I tried."

"No..." James changes his angle. He shades his eyes, though all that does is block out the pale moonlight, and scans the edge of roof. A black strip tops the outer wall of the Italian Restaurant. It gives the illusion of a cap atop the paintings of tomatoes and sliced loaves of bread, and giving way to a shadowy roof of pipes and air conditioning covers.

It takes James about three seconds to spot the camera. "Right there," he says. Then he grins and waves at it.

"Huh?" Steve looks at James as though he's lost his mind.

"Say 'hi' to the camera," James explains. "It's right there. See the bottle of olive oil? Straight up from the rim. It's black. See?"

Steve's eyes go wide. He waves awkwardly. "Is that, like, security?" he asks.

"It's a resource that could possibly be used if, say, a grey camry drove through three open metered spots to park purposefully by a broken meter." James shrugs. "If there was a question of whether the cop booting your car was acting appropriately. Or within the bounds of the law, at least."

James forces his face to stay still as he watches Steve's face turn red. Or maybe silvery green and gold, if he chooses to watch the aura instead of filling in the blanks with known reality.

"Um." Steve's voice comes out slow and unsure. Maybe a note higher than usual. "How, uh, long are we going to be inside?"

"No idea," James says. "I thought the plan was to watch and wing it."

"Do you think you could do a citizen's arrest while I pull the car around front?" Steve asks, suddenly bubbly with what can only be false hope. "Then we can take Tasha and run a lot faster."

James shrugs. A fast getaway could be nice. But James really doesn't feel like beating anyone up right now. Not tonight. He supposes he could do some bungled shouting about being a disabled veteran and sit on someone with his metal arm on full display.

But honestly, once safety was established, James was ready to let Tasha keep whatever goods she'd picked up. As long as she gave him a serving and agreed to wait to dose up until they got home so Steve could serve as a sitter.

Highs could do wonders on migraines. They'd mask the pain and the aura as some kind of dreamland, the blueprints for which haven't yet drifted down to earth. The oppressive rushing of his hearing aids as they attempt to amplify ambient noise would disappear, then be replaced by the quiet taps of Steve's fingers against his phone. The weight of Steve beside him would steady the bed and put the vertigo back in its place. When the nausea turned to vomiting, as it always did, Steve held the trash bin so James didn't have to lift his head from the pillow. He would just slide forward a couple of inches, grateful for his boyfriend and the random fresh-scented cleaning wipe at the bottom of the bin, and the chemists who formulated hallucinogens to begin with, for they must've somehow known the need for an opposite to nightmares.

It's little wonder Tasha uses so much. And very understandable why Steve doesn't.

"So." Steve takes a breath, glances one last time at his illegally parked car, and sets his eyes on James's. "We're doing this thing?"

Perfectly energetic and ready to work. Steve's normal resting pace isn't even resting. And not because he's ADHD, not because he's a micromanager who wants to do it all himself. It's the way he chooses to be. It's how he channels the flows and flexes and conductions and rhythms of heartbeat and hands cutting through water at the pool, behind the spitting washing machine, in James's mouth the time he'd choked on an ice cube...

Whether or not they make it home from school in time to watch the news and make fun of the weatherman with the tie that keeps turning into the radar picture and back again--It doesn't matter so much. It's fun. It's a distraction. Sometimes cuddly. Sometimes they poke each other and rasle around like two overgrown highschoolers. Sometimes they make eyes before the TV even warms up and proceed down the hall. That kind of love is, well, love, Surely.

But this, just now. This wide-eyed young man who is clearly choosing to risk a parking violation to help James take care of his little sister. This Steve, who still glows with innocence, not because he's dumb, but because he chooses to fight for the side of good. So what if he doesn't take James out to romantic dinners--and when the hell would they even have time for that? James is fully aware of the headache raking its uneven fingernails over the surface of his brain, catching in the ridges and painfully loosening knots of lucid thought.

"James?" Steve doesn't look back to the car this time. "Should we go?"

"Yes." James shoves his metal hand in his pocket and lets Steve have the other. "On with the mission."

[beclight]

oh my GOD i didnt realize you can literally COUNT THE PIXELS on the second image. here's a text transcript vvvvv

bec hc

likes plants and would get along w hemera well if not for well,, vol 2. if spinch was the earth theyd be from québec (ok ça c juste pr le jeu de mots) not much into science, but doesnt mind when people talk to her abt it tho has surprisingly great survival instincts gets along with the side patients, sociable and goes to meet other people as opposed to miley who burries herself in her room and never speaks to non-chunklings and can be very hostile, ESPECIALLY to the staff, and even at ppl w good intentions tetanus from wounds at the dumpster (both her miley and pepper have those. scratch is immune.. somehow. and jandy doesnt risk chewing on rusty metal pipe, hence why her teeth are so long and not cared for) her and scratch bite ppl affectionately has slight cog allergies but doesnt gaf and would love to get one he loves bugs and bug catching. they either release them, or give them for mood to eat has tried bugs before but only likes them dried with bbq sauce makes plushies with uni on his spare time!! even as a CC parent, adds ":3" at the end of all of her texts, if they had internet at the dumptster they wouldve probably had that S = Z typing quirk interested in archeology, always tried to dig up fossiles in the dump but best they got was a dead cog idk (do people without a garden throw away their pets?) has a MASSIVE plushie collection. in CC, has it in a locked up room so alphie doesnt destroy it

beclightober day 17 - a vent piece and my headcanons!!

you can also add "would love to help around the hospital and would probably have been given an itp by mood if he didn't try so hard to stay away from the staff as much as possible to make sure miley is safe

[ill-skillsgard]

Hey lovely:) I wanted to ask if I please could get a continuation of the Adrian and Mickey roommate imagine? If not I totally understand. Have a lovely day 💗

Hello, love! I'm terribly sorry it took me so long to get to this. I have the worst attention span, and I didn't want to write something for you that was lacklustre. But I've had a pang of inspiration, and I missed these two boys a lot. With that said, I give you the continuation you requested <3 The previous imagine is here [x]

+

You looked around the apartment...If one could call it such. It was more of a hallway, with a sliver of a kitchen that certainly would never suit the type of meals you liked to cook. You imagined one of the guys barreling through, knocking over a pot of sauce or bumping you with their broad shoulders, sending a sheet of cookies flying to their crumbly death.

"Okay... I know I said I'd be happy in a broom closet, but how are we supposed to cook Thanksgiving dinner here? The stove might as well be an Easy Bake Oven; it's so small. And I've seen coolers bigger than that fridge."

"It's fine," said Mickey.

"I think she has a point," Adrian replied.

The cupboards were apartments for mice, and when you walked down the tiled hall toward the bedrooms, the checkered floor rose and fell, creating an optical illusion of a giant woman in a tiny passage. Mickey and Adrian tried to stifle their giggles.

"Mickey, you try walking through without smashing your head on the ceiling."

It was true—Mickey couldn't make it through the corridor without ducking. But it wasn't the most inconvenient feature of the place. When you reached the first bedroom on the left side, all three of you went in and had a thorough glance around, determining it wasn't so bad until Adrian opened the closet and let out a sigh.

"So... There's a door inside the closet."

"What do you mean 'a door'?"

"Like, there's a tiny door right there in the back of the closet. Right there!"

You and Mickey crowded in to see the small door Adrian spoke of. Mickey nudged Adrian with his elbow. "Open it, Adrian."

"No! What if there's a body in there?"

"Honestly, that'd be the least surprising thing," you muttered as Adrian ventured further into the bare board closet. He twisted the rusty knob and pulled open the door. You watched him hunch down and inch through the space, his shuffles growing distant. "Guys, you're never gonna believe this!"

"What! Is it treasure?" Mickey called out.

"Check it out!" Adrian's voice sounded from behind, startling shrieks from you and Mickey. The taller man clung to you like a frightened child.

"How did you get there?" You asked.

"The door leads to the other room!"

"That's...Deeply unsettling," Mickey said.

"Let's check out the other bedroom," you huffed, leaving the interconnected rooms.

The third bedroom was that broom closet you had assured would be acceptable living quarters. However, the more time you spent inside the narrow square bedroom, the more you convinced yourself tortured spirits of people long-dead whispered in the corners. The cobwebs hung down like Christmas garlands, and the light fixture was a bizarre handicraft of deer antlers with a pull-string hanging down in the center of the room.

Mickey came in behind you and patted you on the shoulder. "Seems like murders happened in here."

Adrian soon followed his friend in, and suddenly, the space was entirely too cramped. "Uh, yeah. This whole place definitely belonged to a serial killer."

Next came the bathroom, which all of you piled into at once just to get the inspection over with. You couldn't tell if the toilet was purchased that way or if years of neglect had stained it a troubling shade of brown. Hunks of porcelain were missing from the sink and counter as if somebody had gone on a baseball bat rampage. The shower was a pipe with a transparent curtain surrounding it. You pulled the stiff plastic back and saw a black spider spinning a web on the faucet—a faucet located near the bottom that had no business being there, for there was no tub of which to speak.

"So, do we have any other options, or are we all set on Buffalo Bill's first apartment?" You asked.

"I dunno," said Mickey. "The rent is cheap, and it's close to downtown."

"It's also close to one of the circles of Hell," you said as you backed out of the room. "Not exactly a selling feature, if you ask me."

"She's right, Mick. This place is shit."

"Oh, come on... We can fix it up!"

"Says the guy who's never fixed a thing in his life," Adrian grumbled. "Said you'd fix the bike you broke, and that was five years ago."

"Aw, you guys have been married for five years?" You cooed before they chased you back down the hall to the living room.

Peculiar stains blotted every corner of the carpets, and the windows had seen better days. One of them had been nailed shut, the posts rusty and screaming with Tetanus. The layer of dust alone set Adrian off on a sneezing fit as Mickey flounced onto a couch seemingly made of animal dander and cigarette smoke-laced tweed.

"Think they'd throw in this couch? It's pretty comfy even with the spring stickin' in my ass."

"I'd pay them to take the thing," you waved the dust motes from your face.

Once Adrian recovered from his theatrical chain of sneezes, he marched into the center of the room, eyes dark and drawn to the floor. He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his denim jacket and kicked at a spot of dirt embedded in the rug, or it could have been a patch of singed fibres.

"No," he said.

Mickey perked. "No, what?"

"No... Just no. We deserve better than this! This place is a dump. I'd rather make a fort in a dumpster than live here."

Mickey went contemplative. "We should make a fort."

"Mick... Come on. Look at this piece of shit. You think she wants to live here? It's awful!"

"I know," Mickey sighed. "It's the worst... What do you think, roomie?"

You stood next to Adrian and squeezed his arm. "I think Adrian's right. We should definitely check out some other options. We're better than this."

"Are we, though?" Mickey's voice squeaked.

"YES!" You and Adrian yelled. Mickey sealed his lips and clasped his hands between his knees.

"Well, okay. Let's look for something else. But you're never gonna beat seven hundred dollars a month."

"And a lifelong curse."

"And a disease from that nasty-ass toilet."

"And probably ghosts!"

"All right, all right, picky-nickies! Let's get out of here then."

You left as a dejected unit of sour faces. When Mickey reached the sidewalk just outside of the dilapidated apartment building, he turned around and jangled the change in his pocket. "I'm hungry! Let's get Taco Bell."

"We have to save our pennies, Mick," Adrian said.

Mickey looked down at the ground and booted a pebble, frowning. You chuckled at them both. Their moods were dampened, but you knew you could rekindle their spirits just as quickly.

"Come on, guys. Let's go get some shitty burritos. It's on me."

Mickey gasped, and Adrian grimaced. "You know...if you want to ditch us and forget this whole deal... We'd totally understand."

"I'm not going anywhere, Adrian. We just hit a bad patch. We'll find something better. Let's get a paper and go look over some ads with some Baja Blast, yeah?"

"I like yooou!" Mickey sang. "Let's keep her, Adrian."

[bisexual-horror-fan]

I Don’t Ask For Much. Freddy Krueger X Reader.

WELL HERE WE ARE!

Been a minute since I have written for my main boy. No one requested this, no way this one is allll me, I took a bit of a break after finishing The Man Of My Dreams but was missing the mans and I had this idea rolling around my head for a little while so here it is! Just some full out, full on, nasty Freddy smut. Without any further ado, here we go, ENJOY!

Rating. Explicit. Length. 5.2K. Freddy Krueger X Reader. Warnings: Rough sex, knife play, blood play, cutting, asking for permission, punishment, spanking, teasing, mocking, dom/sub dynamics, Freddy being a bastard as per usual, slight degradation, fingering, squirting, dirty talk but pet names too.

---

I Don’t Ask For Much.

---

He had been visiting you for a while. A long while, he had taken quite a liking to you, or enough of a liking he decided you were worth the trouble to keep you around. He already had plenty of people to hunt and to kill but you were good for fulfilling a different kind of need that he had. 

You didn't have anyone else and fuck it was so good, so filthy, so hot, he would visit whenever the mood struck and used you however he saw fit and you fucking let him. 

More than let him, you enjoyed it, reveled in it, loved it. 

I mean who could say no to him? 

Lord knows you couldn’t.

Not when he was capable of making you feel as hot as the air in the boiler room itself that he normally had you in. 

Now all this being said, even though he ‘liked’ you, as much as he was capable of liking someone in this kind of arrangement really, he still enjoyed toying with you. Hunting you, chasing you, scaring you before getting onto the main course and what he really intended to do with you. 

This is where we find you, asleep and dreaming, it started as a normal dream until he twisted and manipulated it into another nightmare. 

You had gone to bed in some of your usual sleepwear, just a loose t-shirt and some shorts, they still felt far too constricting and stifling in the heat of the boiler room you were being chased through. The concrete was rough and wet beneath your feet as you ran, the pipes were always dripping, if you weren't careful you could easily slip and he would have you, then again isn't that what you wanted? 

Of course it was but why give in so easily? You'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't like playing a little hard to get, especially since whenever he did catch up to you couldn't keep up that act of being terrified and not wanting this, wanting him. 

You would think that you would have gotten acquainted with the layout of the boiler room but you are pretty sure that he can change it on a whim. Never the same, keeping it a messy confusing maze, all the better when he was hunting and pursuing someone. 

You still would try to make sense of it all the same, you think you remembered this corner being familiar, a hard left, stairs! You had been right! Up you went, wincing slightly at the rough metal grating on your bare feet, you had been running pretty hard on such rough flooring it was getting to be a little painful. Taking the steps two at a time, hand on the railing, it felt rough and rusty under your hand, if you gripped too hard it might cut you. You were used to getting cut in here and waking up bloodied but because of him not from a railing that might give you tetanus, could a dream give you tetanus? A thought you didn't linger long on as you reached the top step and started down the metal catwalk, you were getting tired, lungs burning, legs sore, it was so strange being physically tired while still asleep, but it was always strange with him.

You reached a dead end, the catwalk broke off, you just managed to stop in time, hand still gripping the railing for support. 

Then you heard him on the stairs behind you, the sound of his metal blades scraping along the railing as he climbed the stairs along with the heavy footfalls of his boots alerting you to his presence. 

Fuck.

Nowhere to go, nowhere to hide, time to face him. 

You took a step forward to get away from the precarious edge you were on, and there he was on the same level you were, few feet between the two of you now. 

“Finally caught up, huh?”

Your breathing had mostly returned to normal but was still slightly labored from your run, you liked to tease him, enjoying the reactions you could draw out of him from not backing down so quickly.

“Finally got tired of letting you think you can get away from me.”

Okay Jesus why did his voice have to do it for you like that? 

And again the idea of that. He only lets you think that you can get away from him, likes to let you think you can escape even though you cannot. He was taking his time coming closer, in no rush, the sound of those blades dragging on the railing was terrible, you cringed slightly and that made him smirk. Bastard that he was, he loved to make you uncomfortable. You swear you wouldn’t normally put up with such treatment from someone but hey when he fucked you the way he did you could take a little uncomfortability and it was better than the alternative, better than ending up dead like the others he would visit and bring here. 

“Sure that is what it really is? Not just you getting slow in your old age?”

Much closer to you now, about two strides from being on you, close enough to reach out and touch you, fuck how you wanted him to touch you,

“So confident tonight. What’s gotten into you?”

Need. 

A deep and hungry need to just get ruined by him, you just wanted it hard and brutal, punishing, to wake up sore and spent, wake up so used and tired that it felt like you hadn’t slept at all. 

Was that so much to ask for?

He could obviously tell just what you needed. 

“Nothin’. Just talking to you the same way you talk to me.”

A laugh from him. Tips of the blades of his glove had met your hand that was still on the railing, they were cold as usual but you suppressed a shiver. 

“Hmm and who says you get to talk to me like that?”

More pressure, blades threatening to break through the delicate skin on the back of your hand, you winced slightly, he let up, glove instead starting to slide up your forearm, taking a step closer with the motion of it. You were still too close to the edge of the broken catwalk to think about taking a step back from him. His non-gloved hand reached out and grabbed your jaw hard, thumb running over your bottom lip and you responded much quieter than before,

“Oh do I need your permission to speak?”

You were being terrible tonight, normally by this point you would have given in, he was enjoying the fight in you right now, you weren’t sure how much longer you could keep it up however.

“Maybe not to speak but you do know you need it for other things.”

True.

He liked it when you asked for permission, and you would once again be a liar if you said you didn’t like it too, normally whenever you asked he gave in, least you could do was indulge his slight begging kink when he was so generous with you. Gloved hand had met your shoulder, metal still felt cold through the thin material of your shirt, with his non-gloved hand still on your jaw he tilted your head, exposing more of your throat, tips of two blades hooking into your shirt collar, grazing over your skin so light it caused goosebumps and made you want to shiver again. 

“Distracted?”

He asked. You had been looking at where his glove was moving, what it had been doing, your gaze flicked back to his face, so smug. Before you could respond those same two blades in your shirt collar moved down, with a swift motion cutting the thin fabric with ease, you think you would be used to this by now but you weren’t. A small gasp as he cut, he had nicked you slightly, the first cut of the night always hit a little different, particularly when it was so unexpected as this one had been. His hand let go of your jaw finally, trailed down your neck and gripped the other side of your shirt, both hands using the deep cut he had made to rip the flimsy garment with ease from your body. Torn shreds falling to your feet, again this was fine, it was an old shirt anyway and it felt nice, the boiler room was so damn hot it was kind of nice being shirtless, and again even nicer was being so exposed to him. You were hungry yourself by this point, you released the railing, hands coming to your hips with the intention of getting rid of your shorts, gloved hand grabbed your wrist, hard, 

“Did I say that you could?”

“No.”

Your reply came soft as you looked up to him, fuck that look of his was deadly, you dropped your hands and as he let you, his look was far less harsh as he chuckled softly,

“So obedient.”

You were for him, there was just something about him that made you want to listen, something about the way he looked at you, talked to you, the presence he had. You would be embarrassed for anyone to know about this side of you, of what he brought out of you but nobody knew with it being contained in these dreams with him.

“I don’t have to be you know…”

Ah still clinging on to those last imagined vestiges of control in this situation, it was laughable, he had all the power here and you were weak to him. If he told you to drop to your knees next you would have in an instant but for now you enjoyed playing pretend that you weren’t so deeply into this. 

“Oh sure kitten I believe you.”

His mocking tone said otherwise as with another step closer he was pressed against you, hands on your hips, another step forward from him made you take one back, again until you bumped against the railing, now you were really stuck.

“Nowhere to run.”

“Nowhere to hide”

You thought with a bite of your lip.

It was extremely flustering having him so close to you, touching you, even after the time you had spent with him it was still a lot to handle, it was always so damn hot in here and him being on you wasn’t helping matters at all. 

Something else that always caused a lot of tension is the fact that the son of a bitch had never even kissed you. He had done terrible, truly awful, debaucherous things to you, but not that, never that. 

And what was worse?

You loved it. 

This monster had made you cum over and over, had fucked you so roughly, but wouldn’t press his mouth to yours.

I mean Lord knows you would never put up with that kind of thing in reality of course not, but in here? With him? When he could make you feel like that?

Well let’s just say you let him get away with a lot more than you ever would anyone else. But back to where you were, back to him having you up against the railing, back to him teasing you, leaning in closer, hot breath on your neck. His leg was between yours, knee so fucking close to where you needed it, if you moved your hips down just a touch you could grind on it, on him. He'd like that too much, you giving in before him, you were feeling hot but not desperate, not yet anyway. 

"How wet are you right now anyway?"

Too wet considering he hasn't touched you below your waist once. You were sure he could smell you, the question was simply posed to worsen your situation, make you hotter and more bothered when you had to answer him. But what if you didn't answer him? 

"Awe all talked out?"

He teased as his thumbs hooked into the waistband of your shorts, while he wouldn't kiss you he wasn't opposed to biting, anything to cause you more pain was obviously on the table, you felt his teeth graze your neck and you inhaled sharply.

"Guess I have to check you myself."

This is exactly what you hoped for when you didn't answer him, he brought his knee up that little bit higher and pressed to your aching core through the thin clothes you still had on your lower half. You gripped the railing you were still leaned against, fuck that friction felt nice, he didn’t linger long but he did give you a few nice, hard, grinds on his thigh before stepping back a little again, finally sliding your shorts down, they pooled at your feet and you were left in just your panties now. His hands slid up your thighs, slowly, blades dragging almost hard enough to break the skin but not quite yet, gloved hand finally back on your hip he gripped hard, metal biting into the tender flesh there. His non gloved hand sliding between your legs, fingers far back before dragging forward, hard, over your clothed slit.

Fuck you really were wet, weren’t you?

“Dripping is an appropriate word I think.”

Him talking to you like that was a problem, his fingers hadn’t stopped moving and that didn’t help, back and forward, you didn’t think the fabric could get any wetter, your head tipped forward slightly until he bit down for the first time, surprised yelp leaving your mouth drawing a laugh from him. 

“So sensitive aren’t you?”

His glove moved and blades hooked in one side of your panties and in one move he had cut them, ripped free now, God he could be so controlling and you were eating it up. His fingers on his non-gloved hand were giving you some direct contact finally, no fabric getting in the way and your eyes fell closed with a moan of his name at the feeling. 

He loved playing with you, pulling different reactions out of you was just too fun for him, mixing pain and pleasure. Seeing how you would moan and sigh when he would press just right on your clit or how you would suck in a harsh inhale of air or tense up when he bit down or dragged cold steel harshly against you drawing fresh blood.  

But he was thinking he had played with you enough.

His hands came under your thighs,

“Legs up.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, gripping the railing harder as your eyes opened again, his hands gripping your thighs hard as he pressed between your legs, he was so fucking hard already. He had leaned back a little, looking you in the eye, oh you knew that look and knew exactly what he wanted, legs wrapped around him, ankles hooked behind him. You were rewarded with his non-gloved hand giving some much needed attention to your clit once more.

“Good job. Got you trained so well I don’t even have to tell you.” 

You were so worked up, you let out a soft moan, breathing was more labored, pressure increased and your hips shifted slightly, leaning up more into his touch, 

“So hungry for it.”

He sure liked to hear himself talk but fuck so did you, that deep voice of his always helped you along so quickly, he was too good at reading you as well.

“Freddy-”

You breathed out his name as your eyes fell down, looking at what he was doing to you was always a treat when you could see it, something about seeing his rough and scarred hands touching you made it better. Maybe it was because you got off so heavily on the fact that you loved doing this in your dreams, as this fun and naughty fantasy but never would in your real life, it was such an escape for you. So different you could totally lose yourself in it. 

“Eyes up here.”

He liked making you look him in the eye though, enjoyed how it could make you squirm, which you did so as you looked up to meet his gaze once more. God you were getting close, you huffed out a hard breath before doing the thing that while it was embarrassing you loved it all the same, even if you didn’t it was one of the few requirements for hooking up with him,

“Please can I Freddy?”

He loved it when you asked, amused smirk on his face, he pressed a little harder making you gasp and he asked in that low mocking tone that made you throb,

“Hmm want to cum?”

The way he circled your clit just so as you were so achingly close was wonderful, you moaned low before begging lightly,

“Yes! Please?”

He was normally very generous with you and tonight was no exception.

“Course kitten, c’mon cum for me.”

And that was all you needed to hear, back arched, another moan of his name as you came, clit pulsing under his touch, thighs trembling as you fought to keep your legs around him, eyes rolled back as you lost yourself in the moment of pure bliss he had gifted you. You were oh so lucky he loved to watch you come undone for him. 

No rest for you, his hand off of you, hips rolled forward, hard length ground against you and you moaned again, barely over the aftershocks of your orgasm as he started to undo his pants. 

Fuck yes you needed this right now, you felt painfully empty at this moment, needed to be filled, you arched to grind back on him, you had just cum and yet were still so hungry for him. He seemed ready for it, not necessarily impatient or rushing, he just knew what he wanted from you and he was going to take it. 

“Spoiled little thing. Barely finished cumming and you are already begging to get fucked.”

You knew what was expected and you did so without another thought, debasing yourself as he craved to hear from you,

“Ye-yes I am, please Freddy I need it.”

He was so obliging to you, he ground on you, you bit your bottom lip, pathetic whine leaving your throat at the feeling of him, he didn’t need to grind his now bared length against you for long before he was wet enough to slide in with ease. You let out a low groan once he was fully seated inside your slick heat, looking up to him, pleading with your eyes to please move, to please fuck you like you longed for. 

He looked so fucking smug when he had you like this, he gripped harder with his gloved hand still under your thigh you bit your bottom lip at how sharp it felt, you knew once he started to fuck you you’d get cut. The motion of it and the placement of those blades, how hard they were biting into your thigh you knew on the first really hard thrust he would draw blood. He was aware of it too, you were sure the placement of his glove was no accident, you were sure it was on purpose but you still wanted it.

“Freddy…”

You whispered it and finally he pulled out slowly before pushing forward again making you moan once more, he wasn’t gentle but he started out slowly, enjoying the drag of his hard cock against your swollen walls. Then finally he slammed forward hard once, skin broke and you cursed as you felt hot slick blood spill forth, you couldn’t control it when you cried out-

“YES!”

He paused for a moment, buried all the way inside of you, head dipped down and he bit the sensitive spot where neck met shoulder and you whined as he said against your skin, tone was rough and low,

“You love it when I hurt you.”

No question about it.

A clear and concise statement, and a true one at that. 

You did.

He was rough with you, took you hard, speaking of hard if you gripped the rusty railing any harder you would cut your palms open too. You could feel your blood leaking between the fingers of his glove, another particularly hard thrust made you pant out his name, your legs tightened around him and with that you had some delicious friction on your clit once more, so right and so needed. 

You were ruined already, rocking with him, breathing so hard as he took you, lord knows you wouldn’t last much longer, pleasure coiling inside of you, burning and hot the same as the room around you. Pleasure building inside of you, up, up, up and you breathed out that word again, a desperate plea, a hurried question-

“Please?”

“No.”

Now that you weren’t expecting. He liked you asking but he always allowed you until now. You thought he just liked hearing you beg, liked you asking as a means of control and domination but there hadn’t been the follow through until right now.

Now he was telling you no.

“No?”

It came out rushed, a little frantic, you were a bit confused, another bite on your throat, you were pulled closer to the edge and you bit your bottom lip in response with a soft moan,

“No.”

He said it so firmly. You knew he expected you to listen but how were you supposed to? How were you supposed to hold back right now?

“I don’t knooow if I ha! Ca-a-an-”

He pulled back a little to look in your eyes, fuck that stare was intense, his hips paused only for a moment as he said,

“You better.”

A pang of fear in your chest, you knew you should listen, who knows what he would do if you didn’t but it was too good. The way he hit that spot inside, the slight grind when he was all the way inside again, the friction on your clit, the pain providing the all important dangerous edge you had come accustomed to in these sessions with him. All of it was just right. You tried to fight it, tried to loosen your legs a little, hoping it would ease the friction on your clit but his glove gripped harder, preventing you from moving your legs even an inch. You whimpered and tried to take it, tried to hold out,

“Don’t.”

He warned you and while it did sound serious you swore you could hear the hint of a smile in his voice, unable to tell if he really was smiling because his face was still buried in your neck, another bite and you groaned his name. It’s like he wanted you to fail on purpose, like he was doing every little thing right, just trying to see how far he could push you before breaking you down, splitting you open. 

All things considered you did last a decent amount of time, certainly longer than he anticipated for the first time he dropped this on you but he won out. Another hard thrust and grind and there you were, no hope of stopping it, you clenched around him and fell into your second orgasm of the night. You shuddered, eyes shut tightly as you rode out the pleasure, heaving, you could feel the sweat dripping down between your breasts and from behind your knees. It took you a moment to register he had stopped, holding still inside of you, your eyes opened to find him staring you down, you swallowed hard and offered up softly,

“Sorry?...”

“Sorry?”

He sounded amused but his expression said otherwise, he continued, 

“Tsk. Y/n what am I going to do with you?”

He dragged his glove up from under your thigh, over your hip and up your side, paper thin cuts, small red lines being drawn up flushed skin until finally the blade on his index finger dragged under your jaw, tilting your chin up, you winced and he stated,

“I don’t ask for much.”

He gave a slight shake of his head, hips rolled forward, a delicious grind that threatened to make your eyes roll back again as he pressed on,

“I really don’t. I give and I give and all I ask is that you listen when I tell you to do something.”

His gloved hand gripped your throat and it stole your breath, the leather felt slick from your blood, you were certain you were going to be an utter mess when you awoke, you would have to take some pictures to forever remember how wrecked you were. It was always fun to look back on them when you were alone in bed and thinking of him as you attempted to recreate the feelings he could stir up in you. His grip tightened and he said,

“What am I gonna do with you?”

What was he going to do with you?

“Can’t listen to me the one time I tell you no.”

He already knew. 

Already knew exactly what to do with you.

“I haven’t had you in your bed yet, have I?”

You were a little shocked but you nodded timidly and said,

“No. No you haven’t.”

It was an option you hadn’t even considered to be perfectly honest, he always took you in the boiler room, in uncomfortable positions, against walls or the floor, bent over or like right now on this catwalk, legs around him, leaning on and gripping the railing, he spoke again,

“I should fix that shouldn’t I?”

A snap of his non gloved hand and you were falling back, the railing had disappeared and before you could blink your back hit the soft and familiar blankets of your own bed. The change was so sudden and startling but you didn’t have time to think of that as he pulled out of you, his grip tightened on your throat, your hand over his glove as it was harder to breathe with how he was gripping you, he said,

“When I let go of you-”

He gave you a harsh look that made your heart pound in your chest, whether it was from arousal from his dominance or fear from his weapon on such a delicate part of you it didn’t really matter. He continued,

“-I expect you to get on your hands and knees. Quickly.”

You nodded, eyes wide and after a beat he removed his glove and you complied, scrambling to be on your hands and knees for him, gloved hand on your hip once you were in position for him, 

“Good.”

A very hard spank with his non-gloved hand on your ass that made you gasp and he said,

“You have a nice bed, I could get real comfortable here y/n.”

Two more hard smacks in a row that made you yelp and him chuckle, 

“Now then. Onto what I am going to do with you. Which pillow do you sleep on, kitten?”

What did he have in mind?

You listened all the same and reached out grabbed the one you normally slept on, one more hard spank as he said, 

“Good girl, now put it between your legs.”

Now why did he want you to do that?

You didn’t question it, positioning it between your spread thighs,

“Perfect.”

One final smack and his non gloved hand slipped back between your legs, fingers dragged over your slit until coming to rest on your clit, circles rubbed and you moaned, wait how was this supposed to be a punishment exactly? 

You were so sensitive right now but who could blame you after those two previous spectacular orgasms? Fingers slid back and he slipped two fingers inside of you drawing a curse from you, his fingers hooked and found that sweet spot inside of you,

“Freddy yes-”

“Oh I don’t think you’ll be saying that soon.”

He said it so harshly it scared you a little, fuck it felt so good right now, there had to be a twist to this, what was it going to be? He built you up so fucking quickly, far too good with his fingers as he worked you over, curling and flexing, scissoring in and out, your fingers curled in the sheets and your eyes screwed shut with a moan. You were getting close again, you pushed back against his fingers, chasing that pleasure, forgetting yourself and he reminded you,

“You still have to ask.”

You did, you begged and pleaded,

“Please? Fuck-Fredd-”

Your begging cut short as you gasped, you realized right then that not only was that familiar feeling building inside of you that of your impending orgasm but also a slightly less familiar feeling, you knew when you came you were going to squirt,

“Ah finally caught on, eh?”

A small reminder that he can see inside your head. He hadn’t let up, his thumb brushed against your clit as those same two fingers plunged inside of you, you were on the edge, a dark laugh as he continued,

“No running from it, you are going to cum, understood?”

No way could you deny him. You came the hardest you had so far that night with an ample gush of wetness and a cry of his name, his fingers slowed but didn’t stop as he drew out your orgasm as long as he could, you were shaking when he finally slipped his fingers out of you. His gloved hand gripped your shoulder hard and he pulled you up so your back met his chest, 

“Felt good?”

You were still breathless when you nodded and sighed,

“Yes.”

“Awe. Good.”

He gripped tighter, blades of his glove biting into your shoulder, his non-gloved hand came around your front, dragged over your chest and down your stomach and between your legs again, you closed your eyes, head tipping back to rest on his shoulder, expecting him to touch you again.

You were so forgetful.

This was supposed to be a punishment after all.

Remember?

He gripped the pillow that had been below you and threw it up higher on the bed, gloved hand squeezed once before he pushed you down hard, face down into your pillow. It was wet and cold, you let out a small sound of protest, it felt slick and smelt of sex. He was making you confront directly what he did to you, making you feel your wetness on your own face, inhale the scent of your own depravity. His gloved hand slid up from your shoulder to the back of your head, he pushed down, burying your face harder into the pillow, you were face down ass up and he gave you another hard spank with his non-gloved hand. It was hard to breathe with how he had you positioned, you felt him grind on you again, still achingly hard,

“I think you’ve cum enough tonight.”

He sunk inside of you once more, stretching your over-sensitive cunt open, it would have made you gasp if you could have inhaled more than the small amount he was allowing you currently.

“You better not cum again. You don’t want to know what I’ll do then.”

 See he said that but you were pretty sure you did.

He pulled out only a few inches before a hard snap of his hips forward took your breath even further away from you.

Oh God yeah you weren’t going to have a choice in this matter. 

Good thing too, you liked it when he made the choice for you and there was no way your third orgasm was going to be the last of the night, looks like your curiosity would be satiated. One clear thought ringing through your head before another slam of his hips made it disappear with a moan and blinding, burning pleasure, that thought being,

“Thank fuck for that.”

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Five Times Spencer Doesn’t Meet Sam, and One Time He Does (SPN/CM)

Part 4: 2006

Sam Winchester x Spencer Reid

Word Count: ~660 this chapter

Warnings: Murder basement. Cobwebs. It’s tame, compared to either show.  

A/N: Alternate ending to Supernatural S1E15, “The Benders.” 

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

The team moves quickly and quietly toward the house, maneuvering through a minefield of ancient rusty nails and scrap metal. Spencer grimaces as he almost trips over an old wooden wagon wheel in the grass. He’s glad he’s up to date on his tetanus shots. 

Morgan signals from the side of the house, where he’s spotted a storm door. Hotch directs Elle and Spencer to go with Morgan, while Hotch, Gideon, and the police officers head for the porch. 

“FBI, open up!” Hotch shouts from the front, and then he grimly announces, “I see movement. Let’s go.” 

Morgan heaves the storm door open and leads the way down into the basement. Spencer follows, treading carefully. 

He’s not careful enough to avoid the cobwebs clinging to the low entrance. As he ducks, one of them sticks to his temple and his ear. Spencer shudders, skin crawling, and it takes all his training not to drop his firearm and claw it off. 

Spencer is determined to prove himself to the team, but he’s starting to wish he’d stayed at the station when Gideon gave him the option. 

The room is disgusting: humid and moldy, reeking of outhouse with undertones of stale sweat and mildew. Morgan and Elle clear the first half of the basement quickly, and then when they peer around the corner, Spencer hears low, urgent voices. 

“Clear,” Elle tells Spencer. He holsters his weapon and paws at the side of his face, and the cobweb is gone but the sticky, suffocating feeling of it won’t go away. 

“ —need to get the lock open,” Morgan is muttering, as Spencer catches up and takes in the cage. 

“My brother, he went looking for the key—” one of the captives starts, but he’s interrupted by a shout and a scuffle from upstairs. 

“Reid, stay put,” Morgan barks, and then the two of them are bounding up the stairs to join the rest of the team. 

Spencer is left alone in the near-dark with a sewage bucket and two strangers. Typical. 

He squints at one of the locks and pulls out his picks. He knows he should talk to the victims, ask if they’re okay, introduce himself, whatever… but he can still feel cobweb on his skin, and the rancid damp closed-in air is making it hard to breathe evenly. He can’t manage social niceties right now. The puzzle of a complicated lock will be a welcome focus, though. 

He frees the woman first, and she gives him a clipped “Thanks,” before charging upstairs. 

Condensation drips from a slimy pipe over Spencer’s head. A fat drop of cold water hits the back of his neck, making him twitch. He fights the unpleasant prickle that goes down his spine, reminding himself that this is part of the deal; if he wants to make Gideon proud, if he wants to pull his weight with the team, this probably won’t be his last experience with subterranean nightmare rooms. 

“You okay?” the guy asks, quiet and concerned. 

“Should be asking you that,” Spencer mumbles in response, embarrassed. “You’re the one who’s locked in a murder basement.” 

That is not part of the normal script for “talking to people in cages 101,” but the guy laughs, bright and surprised, and Spencer wonders why he seems so blasé about this whole situation. 

“All clear up here,” Morgan calls from the door, and then a stranger is clattering down the stairs.

“Got it!” he announces, brandishing a ring of old keys. Spencer fiddles, and the lock gives with a quiet click. The guy raises an eyebrow and amends, “Guess you got it.” 

“Thanks,” the no-longer-caged guy says gratefully. “You sure you’re okay?” 

“Fine,” Spencer insists, already starting up the stairs. “Just need some air.” 

“Stop staring at the pretty Fed, Sammy, we gotta haul ass,” the new guy mutters. 

Spencer’s so startled that he misses a step and almost falls backward. By the time he’s recovered his balance, the storm door is slamming shut behind them. 

.

Continues HERE. 

.

Send me an ask if you want to be tagged in the last couple chapters? When it’s done I’m going to make a masterpost and I’ll tag my forevers there. 

@hoboal87​

[braveskyered]

Knights (Part 19)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

(Special Thanks once again to @nebulous-rain​ for providing one of the illustrations. Please check her out if you have the time!)

-

Do you understand the severity of these terms?

…

…You know what? I don’t think I should repeat myself if you’re just going to ignore me.

Just like in reality, in fiction, anything goes.

Not everything is all lovely sunshine and daisies.

Life is never fair.

Not to you.

Not to me.

And especially not to them.

I wonder how much you’re willing to believe, or even believe in them at all.

After all…

We all make mistakes, don’t we?

And yet one will always never forgive them, no matter the apologies they genuinely give.

Aren’t you the same way?

I look forward to seeing where your journey takes you.

-

Part 19: Thought I Told Ya Stop Fuckin’ With Me!

- - - - - - -

April XX, 20XX

I don't even know what I'm doing. I'm so scared of what will happen to me, but I couldn't let myself go through this. I don't even know what Vivi was thinking. I can't do it. Not even for her.

I can't stay. I have to get out of here. Get away from the monsters that hurt me. It's nothing more than a prison at this rate.

…

I guess I'm a coward to the very end.

I'm sorry ■■■■■ ■■■■ everyone.

-

May XX, 20XX

It's been two weeks since I escaped that hell.

Somehow, things are getting better for me. I don't know why, but I managed to find a job at an auto repair shop and even a place for me to stay at the same time in Cantabile, Tennessee. The shop, Four of a Kind Queens, is a family owned business that's run by the grandmother of the Knights family, Vivienne. She's the one that provided me a job and a home. I don't know how to thank her other than to do whatever I can.

The Knights family is interesting in that they're almost all women (other than those that are married with a husband). Almost all of the employees at the shop are women, too. I actually felt a bit out of place as one of the few male employees there. You'd think it'd be the other way around. Thankfully, none of them seemed interested in me so far.

I can only hope that I'll be able to move on from the past without them finding me. I don't want the Knights family to get dragged into my problems any more than they have to.

I'm just happy to have Galaham with me. I don't know what I would've done, or where I would be, without him.

-

June XX, 20XX

It's been a month since I arrived in Cantabile. It's surprising that I'm still here.

I got a new phone for myself. It's the kind that didn't require me to get a contract since I bought it from an electronics store. I had already disposed of my old smartphone and the SIM on it after I came here. It was rough to let go of it, but at least my photos and other files for my projects are safe.

I just hope that I didn't compromise my safety when I did the switch.

-

July XX, 20XX

Vivienne told me to stay home for the next few days. All I learned was that something had happened in the city that had police going around crazy. Also, someone's family member had gone missing and was reportedly said to be seen in Cantabile. I didn't dare search my name online. Instead I opted to look up missing persons by state.

...I shouldn't be surprised that I found my name and face as one of those missing in Texas. It said that I had left for a solo vacation and never returned, and that my last known location was somewhere in the mountains of Tennessee. It didn't say anything about which town or city I was last seen in or me being hurt, but I didn't want to take any chances.

I want to let my uncle know I'm okay, but I can't. I'm sorry.

-

July XX, 20XX

Vivienne called me back into work today. The police had found the person that was reported missing, and there hadn't been any more unusual activity, so it was safe for me to come back.

She told me that it's not unheard of for abusers to report their victims that have escaped from their grasp as missing individuals, pretending to care about their missing "loved ones." Those blind to the truth would fall for the sob stories and find the victims that have truly escaped, and then drag them back to their tormentors and not know the difference.

I was worried that I wouldn't be able to make rent since I couldn't work for the past four days, but Vivienne still paid me as if I did. I’ll find a way to make it up to her someday.

I'm worried about my uncle, but I don't want to get dragged back there. I'm sorry, Uncle.

-

August XX, 20XX

The Knights, mainly Elaine (who is Vivienne's youngest granddaughter), have been inviting me to various events lately.

Sure, being invited to the little parties and lunch gatherings meant to keep up employee morale is pretty fun, but now the occasion is attending a Robotics convention. From what Elaine had told me, it was just only her and her family going, but for some reason, I was the only employee invited to come along. Maybe the others didn't have any interest?

Elaine said that it was to get me out of the apartment and the shop. It's true that I don't go out much other than to get the essentials, and even then, most of them were brought to me by delivery, but it's mostly because I don't want to expose myself.

I can't let them find me. I don't want to go back.

-

August XX, 20XX

Elaine and I are dating now, I guess.

I had a good time at the Robotics convention. There were a few moments where I thought I saw someone that would recognize me even though I wore a hat and a different style in clothing and gloves to hide my arm, but thankfully, I was only seeing things. I think as long as I'm with someone I know, I'll be okay.

I say we're dating, but I highly doubt it'll work out between us. I mean, who would want to remain beside someone who has more problems than I care to count? No one in the shop even knows about my arm yet, because I didn't want to get any special/excess attention because of it.

Still, I'm well aware that Elaine has a crush on me (she's not exactly the most subtle about it). I'm not sure what will happen once she loses interest, but I hope we can still be friends at least. Other than Elaine and her family, Galaham is my only real companion right now.

I don't really have much of a choice to stay isolated like I had been, but at least I'm not getting beaten or burned on a near daily basis.

...I wonder if this relationship with Elaine will work out.

-

August XX, 20XX

Surprisingly, Elaine hasn't broken up with me. I just don't understand. What does she see in me? I'm a disgrace to the people I once knew. I feel like a discarded piece of trash that's left out on the curb, and I know I'm still an absolute wreck from all the nightmares of the night that's forever etched into my subconscious.

I accidentally cut my right arm on a rusty pipe at work. Because I didn't have a medical record to provide, Vivienne had me taken to a hospital to get a tetanus shot as a precaution. Although I never wanted them to know, they learned about my left arm and the rest of my injuries. I never saw someone look so horrified. Not at me, but the fact that I had so many wounds still healing and one that never will. To be on the safe side, Vivienne had me go through a complete physical. Examinations, x-rays, even an MRI had been added into the mix.

Even though we reached a compromise in that no one is to ask how I got these injuries back in Texas, I told Vivienne that I wouldn't be able to pay for all of it. She simply said that the director owed her family a handful of favors. Just how much influence does she and her family have? I don't think she would've helped to this extent if I hadn't been Elaine's boyfriend.

...It still feels weird to say that.

-

September XX, 20XX

My wounds from the hell I escaped from are slowly healing. I don't think they'll ever truly fade, but at least they're no longer hurting. I still have to cover my neck with scarves or turtlenecks to hide the very last wound I received, but hopefully that will fade over time, too.

The medication that was prescribed to me last month had worked wonders for me. I no longer have to bear with such crippling phantom pain, and the Knights family, including Elaine, have been helping me move on.

Maybe I can truly start over? Maybe I can truly find a place for myself here? I don't know how I'll ever be able to return the favor for the Knights family.

I think I'll invite Elaine to try out that new sandwich shop that recently opened up with me.

-

October XX, 20XX

Over time, I learned that the Knights family have a side business of sorts. They handle paranormal investigations and even do monster hunting for certain clients. Oddly, only the women of the Knights family do this.

Vivienne had retired from the side business a few years back and runs Four of a Kind Queens after inheriting it from her mother. Her two daughters, Morgan and Caelia, still do the side business occasionally, along with her two granddaughters Elaine and Eleanor. I almost never see Eleanor, since according to Morgan (her mother), she travels with her husband for his job as a contractor of sorts.

Elaine is leaving for one such occasion. She's been hired to investigate an abandoned house since there have been some crazy occurrences here and there. I don't know why, but I couldn't bring myself to stay, so I quickly volunteered to join her. I told her of my past experience as a paranormal investigator and demonstrated my knowledge of it. It was enough to convince her.

I never told the Knights family about the group I used to be a part of. I don't even want to think of the names of who and what I used to know. I was thrown away and cast aside, and I was constantly punished for the things I never wanted to happen.

...I just hope I don't bring Elaine to her death. At the very least, I'll help maintain her equipment and remain in her van. That way if anything went wrong, at least it won't be her getting pushed off. I should probably check ahead of time and make sure there isn't anything that could be used as a weapon to hurt her.

-

November XX, 20XX

I keep telling myself that I need to stop involving myself with the paranormal. That way I won't get hurt anymore, that way I can't be used to hurt anyone. But I couldn't. I can't.

Elaine made the investigations safe. I actually enjoy going on these trips with her.

She listened to all of my concerns, answered my questions, and even took the time to plan ahead with me on what needs to be done. I would help with the preliminary investigation and preparation, and if it became too dangerous for me, I would stay in the van with the protection wards while she went on ahead. In the rare occasions where it was too much even for her, she would back out and call her family for backup.

I love it when one knows when to fold.

-

December XX, 20XX

Elaine and I are still dating here and there.

I still don't know what a date really is, but if the occasional walk around the mountain trails or just having a meal together counts as such, then I guess that counts? (Huh. Redundancy.)

The things I learned about Elaine so far is: She's good at cooking, knows how to work with cars, likes reading science fiction and the occasional romance and horror novels. She doesn't care much for movies unless it really interests her, and even then, that's rare. She loves the family cream stew recipe her grandmother makes.

Elaine started to play some video games with me once I saved up enough money to buy a secondhand console during a sale. I often like to do little commentaries whenever I play, and she started to join in as well.

I'm so thankful to have her as a friend.

-

December 25th, 20XX

Even though I was all but exiled from where I used to live, I still wanted to let my uncle know what I'm fine without anything being traced back to me. Eventually, I came up with a technique that allowed me to do it.

One time I went with Elaine on her trips for the family's side business, I had asked her to buy a stack of notebook paper and some envelopes from an office store while we were out three states over. They were completely covered with wrapping, so there were no worries of her fingerprints getting on them. I made sure to only let myself touch the letters while writing and sending them, so that way there would be no danger for the Knights.

I had written my first letter to my uncle last week. I didn't include much, just that I was fine and that I'm in a much better place, and I asked him in that he doesn't try to look for me. I even went so far as to write it in a way that he would know that I'm not making it up and that I'm actually safe. I won't be able to get a reply from him, and we probably won't be able to see each other again, but hopefully this will put him at ease.

Merry Christmas, Uncle. I'm sorry.

-

January XX, 20XX

The new year. Hopefully it'll lead to a new me.

I'm gradually making a few friends outside the Knights family, but I mainly just stay home and keep to myself. They've gotten used to it; I think. We sometimes get to play some online games together, so that's cool.

-

February 14, 20XX

I got to spend some time with Elaine at a place popular for couples before a job. Granted, Elaine was asked to investigate some disappearances that occurred in that area, but I came with her last minute because I wanted to spend more time with her. It's selfish of me to do that, but I want to prove myself as a person for her. Plus, the last few cases I went with her went okay.

…

The fact that the Knights family are so effective at paranormal investigations and monster hunting, it makes sense now.

The Knights family themselves are monsters.

Elaine ■■■■■■■■ those cultists. Sure, she did it to save me, but she still ■■■■■■ ■■■■.

Dating her was a mistake. Everything has been a mistake. Everything about me has been a mistake.

I broke up with her.

-

March XX, 20XX

I don't know what I'm even doing. I still go to work, but after what happened two weeks ago, I can't look anyone in the eye. I try to avoid them. I know that they can kill me at any given moment. If that were to be the case, I hope they'll at least wait until it's Galahad's time to go, I don't want him to pass after me.

When that incident happened, Elaine begged me not to hate her while crying. After that, she never said anything to me other than when it's time to clock out or the few times her grandmother would buy lunch for the employees. No one in the family told me to leave, but they didn't ask for forgiveness, either.

I fear Elaine, but I can't hate her. What she did was unforgivable, even though she did it to save me. I know I would have died had it not been for her actions, but still. Am I truly worth saving? Enough that someone will kill to do so?

…Real monsters would never save people.

I can't let it be like this. I will talk to her the next time I go to work.

-

March XX, 20XX

I managed to have a heart-to-heart talk with Elaine. I still couldn't bring myself to forgive her for what she did, but I made sure to thank her for saving my life. There are still many things we need to work through, but at least we seem to be on the right page now.

We've decided to give this dating thing another shot. Not to start over, but to pick up where we left off.

I will accept her, monster and all.

After all, the real monster is me.

-

June XX, 20XX

I love her. I love Elaine.

I shouldn't love her. I don't have the right to love her.  I shouldn't let these feelings be a part of me. It's becoming harder and harder to deny it.

Elaine can easily toss me aside should she so choose. But she didn’t. I just can’t understand.

I still confessed to her. Because I didn’t have a ring to give her, I gave her my star spin. She gave me a pin shaped like the moon. The Knights in the night. Heh.

She returned her feelings.

-

October XX, 20XX

Elaine proposed to me.

-

November 11, 20XX

So… I tied the knot with Elaine today.

It feels so unreal. I never thought even once in my life before meeting her that I would ever find love like this. I really don't know how to describe this feeling. I have never felt anything even remotely like this in the past where all I felt was pain.

The ceremony could have been better, though. I wish I didn't have to make Elaine sad when I asked her to keep that one promise for me as one of our vows, but I know this had to be done for everyone's sake, including hers.

Elaine, if you ever read this, I want to say thank you. I love you, and I will do whatever I can to make you happy like you do for me.

...

I love you, too, my star. ☆

- - - - - - -

Red spilled.

Arthur looked down on himself, on his hands, and saw red. Why is the room covered in red? Why are Gwen and Percy covered in red and down on the floor? The clothes of Vivi's son soaked in more crimson. Whose blood is this? He coughed and looked at his hands.

Oh. It's his.

He forced himself to swallow the vomit that threatened to leave his throat. He blinked and saw that the red is now gone. Another hallucination? Definitely not a good sign, but he will have to worry about it later when he took a moment to touch the moon pin on his vest before shifting his focus on the children.

Gwen and Percy, along with Vivi's son Jason, are still standing, looking at him like they're seeing a ghost. The wraith is still floating behind the children, looking like a deer in the headlights. Arthur briefly took note that it's holding something, a blue rectangle of sorts that took one hand for the wraith to hold. A box? Not important.

Arthur knew that he would have to face the wraith again one day. It could have gone in so many ways. In all of those scenarios, it always had the wraith looking angry and vengeful like it always did when it was alone with him.

To think the wraith could hurt him like this.

"Dad…?"

The sound of Percy's voice snapped Arthur out of the fog. It's hard to bear the heat flaring up from his back and neck, difficult to keep the acid bile from bubbling up in his throat, and hard to maintain eye contact with that ghoulish face. It’s not looking angry now, but he knows it’s only a matter of time.

"Gwen, Percy,” Elaine said, “Come over here.”

The three children glanced up at the wraith before the twins subtly nodded to each other, with Gwen quietly gesturing to Jason to follow her as the three left the wraith’s side. The wraith, to its credit, didn’t do anything to follow.

“Arthur, I—"

“Elaine,” Arthur commanded with strain, his fingers barely touching the scar on his neck, “Take the kids with you… and go back to the others. Tell Vivi and Mystery to come here.”

“Are you sure?” Elaine kept her attention to him while keeping the wraith in the corner of her vision, “Isn’t that the one who—”

He nodded. He didn’t want to leave this up for debate. This isn’t her fight, but his. He’ll find a way to fend it off one way or another, and he knows it won’t lift a finger to hurt Vivi.

“Okay,” Elaine nodded back, “But if it tries anything, let me know.”

“There is no need for that.”

Everyone turned to see Niniane with Vivi and Mystery behind her. Arthur had to suppress a shudder as he saw one of Niniane’s hands emit the green-blue aura and point it at the wraith. She looks really mad…!

“No way…” Vivi could be heard whispering, “The seal’s broken?”

‘Seal’? Wait, didn’t her father mention--

“So you’re the one that abused my distant grandson-in-law,” Niniane said as she held it in place with her magic, “I almost couldn’t believe it when I found out that you were still around after nearly eighteen years since your death. Most ghosts typically disappear after a few months,” she narrowed her eyes, “But that’s assuming you had let go of your desire for his death.”

“That’s—” the wraith started before Niniane brought it closer to her face.

“But at the same time, you have been sealed for over seventeen years, so maybe you’ve had plenty of time to… reflect.”

“Niniane, enough,” Arthur said, catching her attention, “This isn’t your fight.”

“Anything that involves my family is my fight, Arthur,” Niniane said simply, “I don’t see why we should leave this one on the loose. I can just easily seal it back to where it was previously, or…”

She let out a cruel smirk just before a dull blue and heart-shaped object flew out of Percy’s grasp and into her own.b

“I can just get rid of it entirely.”

She gave the metal heart a squeeze upon speaking the last word, causing the wraith to wince upon hearing a small crack–.

Arthur managed to hide his shock by swallowing his words. Still, it’s very tempting. Niniane could just easily eliminate the wraith here and now. If she did, then there would be no more burns, no more pain, and-- He glanced in Vivi’s direction and saw how distressed she is. How she looked at wanting to speak up, but unable to defy the one suppressing her. Just like how the wraith had suppressed him in the past. Gwen and Percy look terrified, too.

…This isn’t right.

“Not yet, Niniane,” Arthur said with much effort, “We can’t do that yet.”

Niniane blinked in brief surprise before looking down at Arthur with a glare, “Oh? And why should I delay in destroying this?”

“Because I need answers,” he said, “With what my uncle, the Yukino family, and the Peppers saying that they want all this to end, and why Vivi ‘snapped’ and kept hunting monsters in my name even though she never did anything to this one, or how that ghost managed to earn the kids’ trust, I need to know why.”

Niniane pondered momentarily before shrugging, "I suppose that's an understandable reason. Very well. I will allow you to question them, but I will be watching."

"No, I'll do it," Elaine said as she stepped forward to be beside Arthur, "I need you to watch after Vivian. We can't have her make her way towards us, not to mention that I don't want her to get hurt by that 'dog' again."

Niniane glared at Vivi and Mystery's direction briefly, then nodded, "Very well, Elaine. I will leave this to you. If any of them do go out of line, do whatever you wish," she handed the heart over to her distant granddaughter, "I trust you will make a good decision. And the children?"

"We're staying," Percy said as he and Gwen stood by their father's side, “It may not look like it, but it’s pretty much my fault that we’re in this in the first place.”

Arthur was about to rebuke his son before stopping himself. Like it or not, Percy is responsible for allowing Mr. Yukino to identify him out of an online article by wearing the skull pin and his resemblance to him, and he might be at fault for getting the attention of the Mystery Skulls, too.

But in the end, it’s Arthur’s own fault to allow any of this to happen.

Forget the blame game. Just get this over with. Get the answers I need, and just let this thing die once and for all.

The lives of his three children depend on it.

“I understand. I shall do as you ask,” Niniane straightened herself and shifted her gaze to the wraith and the Mystery Skulls with a narrow glare before walking away, “But like I said earlier, if they were to step out of line, there will be no mercy.”

Arthur watched Niniane leave. A part of him didn’t want her to, but something in his mind is telling him that it was probably for the best that the old woman isn’t involved in this. On a separate note, he could only hope that Morgan is keeping Lance and the Peppers in line, for he didn’t want to get them involved in this, either.

Now, it’s just him, Elaine, the twins, Vivi, her son, Mystery, and now the wraith.

“Jason,” Vivi broke the silence as she kneeled down to her son, “Could you stay with Belle for a while? I need to have a special talk with these people.”

“Do I have to?” Jason asked meekly, “I thought I could play with Gwen and Percy? They’re better than all my classmates.”

“That right?” Vivi gave out an exasperated yet fond smile, “Tell you what, if all goes well, then you can play with them again when we’re done talking.”

Jason looked like he wanted to speak up, but he nodded before giving Gwen and Percy a shy wave. He said something about wanting to talk more about robotics with the twins nodding, then left the living room after looking back a few times.

“Sorry, I didn’t want him involved in this,” Vivi said as she stood back on her feet. She looked at both Arthur and his family, then at the wraith and Mystery before speaking to Arthur, “So… You’re married. With kids.”

Arthur took a moment to make sure that he was between the Mystery Skulls and the twins. It became a comfort when he saw Elaine follow suit and hold his hand like she always did during the nightmares to make sure the wraith wasn’t near the children either. Whatever connection he had with the Mystery Skulls has long been shattered, and he managed to make a new one with the Knights family after meeting Elaine.

“You make it sound like that’s a bad thing,” he said while seeing the wraith slowly fiddle with the blue box in its hands, “Still, my condolences for your husband’s passing. He must have been a great man since your family left a shrine for him.”

Like me, she has also moved on from the past.

“You would’ve liked Harry,” Vivi smiled sadly, “Even though the way we got together was… less than ideal, we were able to love one another regardless. He loved me, and he loved our son.”

Something tells me that I shouldn’t pry further…

“But that’s not what’s important right now,” Vivi started to make a move towards him, only to immediately back off upon seeing his glare, “You know how shortly after you left, this town became cursed? By the demon that ruined everything?”

“You need me to help you break it,” Arthur said, unconvinced with his arms crossed, “You realize that I’m not really inclined to help you after you and Mystery almost killed my children.”

“She what?!” The wraith reeled back before turning to the woman in blue, “Vivi, why would you do that?! What were you even doing all this time that made you go after kids?!”

“They can transform into monsters!” Vivi said loudly, “I didn’t know they were Arthur’s kids!”

“Wait, so if we weren’t Daddy’s kids, you would’ve just gone after us no matter what?” Gwen asked as she glared at Vivi.

“None of this would've happened if you hadn’t attacked us in the first place!” Percy looked down on the fake dog, “We were just minding our own business until you showed up saying we shouldn’t exist!”

“We can only apologize for that. We thought you had done something to Arthur when I picked up his scent from the three of you,” Mystery said to Percy, “If we had seen you as you are now, even we would’ve picked up on the fact that you are his son, or at least someone related to him.”

Seeing his children becoming more involved with the monsters of his past is starting to become too much. Arthur covered his ears and started humming the lullaby quickly to himself to drown out the sound. He didn’t care that the lullaby would hurt him. He didn’t want to hear the madness anymore. No more! Please! No more!

“Arthur, isn’t that my--?”

“Oh, shut up! Don’t think we didn’t forget how that bitch nearly chopped up our sister! You’re lucky that she missed, or I would’ve gone for her throat instead of her hair!” Percy growled as he made the throat slash gesture with his thumb upon saying it, “Unlike necks, hair can grow back.”

“So you would have killed her?!” Mystery bared his teeth upon hearing the thought of Vivi’s safety being threatened, “I’m not sure if that would’ve been a wise choice. If that Gashadokuro hadn’t appeared, I would have made you regret making that move.”

“I’m right here, mutt,” Elaine said slowly as her right arm, the hand holding the heart, became skeletal with a black and purple flame, her left eye also glowing purple as she glared at the fake dog that just realized his mistake, “Care to repeat that in front of their mother?”

There was a long silence.

Or rather. It went blank for Arthur. They’re still talking. Still arguing. He set his arms down.

That’s right.

These three, the Mystery Skulls and a monster, tried to harm his children. The wraith might seem against the idea, but he knew the wraith would take away anything Arthur held dear like it had done in the past just to see him in pain.

Not.

This.

Time.

“ARTHUR!” “What are you--?!” “DAD!” “DADDY?!”

Arthur kicked Mystery away from the kids amidst the screams and glared at the fake dog when he gave him a look of disbelief. He never wanted to hear Vivian cry like she had earlier today ever again.

“Arthur,” Elaine immediately went back to normal and came to his side, “Don’t push yourself.”

Upon seeing it, Arthur snatched the heart from Elaine’s grasp with his left hand. He tried to keep his breathing stable, but it’s getting harder and harder to breathe…

…What is this? Why is it so dark and purple?

…

How long has it been? Days? Weeks? Months? Years? …Centuries? The passage of time has long been lost.

Nothing but regrets, nothing but sorrow, nothing but the memories that used to give him a sick sense of satisfaction that now bring him an even more sickening sense of regret and shame.

It’s what he deserved. He knew that.

He could still sense what is going on outside his prison… somewhat at least. His little helpers, the Dead Beats, that were extensions of himself still wandered over yonder here and there, but even though they’re essentially his eyes and ears, they can only sense so much in their extremely weakened state. He has no idea how long it’s been since he was left here to rot by the old traditional shrine maiden that knew how to use the paper seals and chants that could exorcise even the strongest of demons. At the same time, he didn’t know why she chose to seal him instead of eliminating him entirely.

He is aware that he brought this outcome of ruin upon himself, being sealed with the one that ruined everything. The memories it haunted him with within the darkened green, such as the ones he used to be proud of, only brought anger and disappointment upon itself. Sometimes it would leave him alone, and he made sure to treasure those moments of relief. No moment of peace except for these rare precious moments. Despite this, he couldn’t let his guard down and was always on edge.

The fact that it used him to hurt his parents will… It made him feel violated more than he cared to admit.

He has no doubt that this is all what Arthur went though, as well. He wondered if the mechanic is even still alive.

Every once in a while, he would try to distract himself from the now painful memories by singing his song with his little helpers. Sometimes he would sing it the way it’s supposed to, other times he would sing it more sadly and melancholy.

This time I might just disappear…

He chose to sing it slowly and softly this time. The green hasn’t tried to disturb him for a while.

All of a sudden, he sensed something outside. He couldn’t tell what it was since his little helpers were so weak. He couldn’t see them, but he could feel them. Two… no, three? New presences near his prison’s proximity. He may not be able to do anything from where he is, but he hoped that his little helpers would lead them away to safety.

…They’re not leaving. One can float around. But it’s so small… Unless he is wrong, the floating one is… searching for something? The other two that can walk are trying to pursue the one that floats. What are the Dead Beats doing? They’re trying to get into contact with the three, but something is holding them back. One had enough, and so it used a trapdoor to catch the three by surprise. Why are the Dead Beats trying to bring the three to him? There's nothing he can do.

Oh, the one that can fly took one of the two, while the remaining kept falling.

"--en!"

A young boy's voice. Maybe someone calling out to their partner? He wanted to help, but as long as the seal remains intact, he can't leave, let alone move.

A yelp of pain in a girl's voice. She sounds hurt. Did she fall that badly? Is this the person the other voice he heard just moments earlier call out to? Before he could question it any further, something in his vision changed. It's faint, but light started to crack vertically in front of him. To his surprise, when he tried to reach out, he found that he could move. His fingers came into contact with the side of what felt like a lid. He pulled it to the side as hard as he could.

The lid of his coffin fell off with a loud clatter, and he quickly shut his eyes against the bright light.

Am I… free?

Does this mean that Arthur is here?

"Oh… f-frick…"

He slowly opened his eyes to adjust to the light, which isn't much. When his vision cleared, he saw-- That's not Arthur. It's just a kid, a young girl with dark hair and gray overalls, staring at him with an alarmed expression though her eyes.  But the only way for him to be released from his prison based on what the old shrine maiden had said…

“Only those that come after in blood of whose soul you’ve hurt.”

Although he has no idea how, this child is someone that has fit the criteria the shrine maiden had placed. Maybe she knows where Arthur is, or at least what happened to the world outside after he was sealed.

He looked down at himself briefly before shifting his focus to his heart. Still dark in color, and heavily cracked like it had been ever since he realized his mistake too late. How long has it been? What does he even look like now? He thought about looking into his heart, but instead looked up at the child before him.

"You…"

He started as he began to move forward, reaching out for her. Maybe he could lead her back to her two companions and then out of his prison? He tried to speak except he couldn't form the words other than "You."

The way the girl reacted with alarm before running off… felt familiar. He realized that he could move still, so he started to float and moved to follow her. He had to make sure she didn't fall into a trap or worse, encounter the green.

She saw him pursue her. As she continued to run away, she lifted an arm to his direction. He wondered what she was doing before seeing something sparkle in her hands and realized it immediately. She has magic. Why does it feel so cold? He didn't want to hurt her, so he lifted his hand to burn away the ice and nothing else. He tried to speak, but for some reason, he couldn't remember the words he wanted to say. What were they again? He knew how to say his name and one other.

"Arrrrth…"

"No no no no no no no no!" The girl just kept repeating the word, probably more to herself than anything else. She's a lot faster than he thought. How familiar. Maybe he can still warp the place like he used to before he was trapped here?

He knows most of the doors were basically portals that led to other doors meant to confuse people, so when the girl ran into one of the many doors in the hallway, she came out of another door in the same area just a little further down. When she saw him, she briefly looked annoyed, and then kept running in the long hallway and ignored the remaining doors altogether.

He needs to find a way to let her know he means no harm. It took some effort, but soon he was able to conjure a wall to cut off the girl's path to where only two pathways remain. The first path being the way they came, the other being another hall that neither had gotten to yet. Either way, he managed to effectively trap her in a corner.

"You… Arrrrrth…" Why can't he speak properly?! He just wanted to talk to her…

Something must have caught the girl's attention, as she soon went from a guarded stance to one of confusion.

"Are you… trying to say something?"

He looked up at her and nodded.

“You’re not going to hurt me, are you?”

He shook his head.

“Raise your left hand if you understand me.”

He did so.

She looked hesitant before standing up straight, “You’re definitely a wraith. The only way for something like you to exist was if you died a very violent death, and in your last moments, having a very strong desire. In other words, you have unfinished business here, right? Someone murdered you.”

He nodded. When the girl didn’t make a response, he looked down at his heart. Maybe if he shows her the photo inside, she’ll recognize any of the people in it? He allowed his heart to approach the girl for her to look. Just as if she was about to take hold of it--

“GWEN!”

He couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Back off, you skull ghost!”

Standing in front of the girl, shielding her from him is—! He realized that he is shaking, that he is crying, “Arrrrttthhhh… You…”

Arthur looked taken aback, “Wha--? Why are you--”

Before anyone realized it, he held Arthur in his arms in a soft embrace.

“Arthur, it is you!”

There isn’t any green. He didn’t want to let Arthur go, otherwise it would mean that this isn’t real.

He wanted to let Arthur know how sorry he is and that he learned from his mistake. That maybe things will work out. That maybe, just maybe, things could go back to what everything once was. To be a team again. Maybe get Vivi and then ask Arthur that question with her one more time and hope that he accepts it. That maybe, just maybe, Arthur will forgive him.

And maybe, just maybe… He thought more to himself as he gently held Arthur, who remained still with a look of confusion, by the shoulders to look into the gentle blue eyes he always knew--

…

…

…Wait.

Arthur doesn’t have blue eyes. They’re supposed to be gold like his hair. He’s also supposed to have a patch of dark hair just above his forehead, not white.

Upon closer inspection, he realized that the not-Arthur before him isn’t even an adult, but a child that just reached his teens, just like the girl behind the boy that somehow opened his prison. He took a moment to take in the features of the boy before him. The spiky hair, the way the patch of hair above his forehead looks outside of color, his jawline, his general stature, it’s beyond unmistakable.

It’s not Arthur, but he didn’t doubt this boy is related to him some way.

What sealed it was when he saw a familiar pin on the boy’s vest, one of the Mystery Skulls logo. Unless it’s a replica, only three are supposed to exist, but since it looks so beat up…

Looking at the girl, she doesn’t look like anyone he knew, but he soon found what he was missing. Her eyes were the same gold color as Arthur’s. He then saw her headband with a somewhat beaten blue circle just above her right ear.

“Hey,” the girl asked, her voice shaking, “Do you know this ‘Arthur’s’ last name?”

It took him a moment to answer, “K-King…”

“'Kingsmen'?” the boy suddenly asked, and when he nodded, the two children looked at each other as if realizing something before the boy spoke up again, “Hey, do you remember when you died? Like, the date and year?”

He told them.

“That’s… that’s over seventeen years ago!”

…Seventeen… years?

His heart fell to the floor and cracked.

…

…

…

Huh? 

Arthur blinked and looked up at the wraith. If what he saw was true…

He gritted his teeth. He won’t accept it. He just can’t.

 He glared at the Mystery Skulls while holding on to the heart to the with a tight grip. 

“I don’t know what you Skulls have been doing while I was away, and frankly, I don’t even care,” Arthur seethed as he glared at Vivi, “I let you all do whatever you wanted with me because I know that everything was my fault. Your parents said so, as did Lewis’s family, and as did that monster beside you that you kept because of your damn obsession.”

His grip on the wraith’s heart tightened. The wraith winced. Vivi and Mystery looked taken aback.

“I let that monster have its way with me for the six months we stayed with it because it was the only way you would be happy. I had to learn the rules through trial and error so I wouldn’t go through any more of this,” Arthur pulled on the turtleneck of his sweater to reveal the burn mark on his throat briefly before releasing it, “Just so you could stay happy. But no matter what I did to atone, it wasn’t enough. Not for your family, not for the Peppers, and certainly not for that wraith that’s only been kind to you.”

Vivi is trembling. It would have pained Arthur to see it, but he no longer cared. Not after what she nearly did to his son and daughters, to Elaine’s treasured miracles.

He noticed Elaine’s hand wrap itself around his right shoulder and felt relieved, even though he dared not show it. Not in front of the wraith and the fox.

“What… What were the rules?” Vivi asked with a shaky voice.

Arthur rolled his eyes in irritation. Typical for the wraith to stay silent and play dumb around Vivi like it always did.

“I was not to be alone with you for even a moment, let alone speak to you, even if you were the one to reach out. I was not to perform maintenance on my arm. I was to go first on investigations, entering rooms, crossing streets. After all, you wouldn’t want me to push you to your death, too, now would you? I was not to do any more maintenance for the van, let alone drive it anymore. For all you know, I could’ve tampered with it to stage an accident, even though everyone here knows very well that the mechanic in me would never do that. I was to never sleep past a certain time, even on the few nights where I wouldn’t have nightmares and hopefully, finally, get a full night’s rest for once. Or else I would just be forcefully dragged out of bed and get punished. For all anyone knows, I could’ve been plotting something. ‘No rest for the wicked,’ as the saying goes.”

The Mystery Skulls were looking more and more sick as Vivi looked more and more angry at the wraith with tears starting to form in her eyes. Sucks to be them.

He didn’t dare look at his family right now.

“I was not to eat anything unless all three of us were present. And even then, that had some rules. I wasn’t to eat any of my favorite foods, or anything from the Pepper Paradiso, even if you were the one that provided it to me. Although that one will forever stick after not only getting beaten for it, but also getting tampered food that made me sick at least twice, from cookies with the icing switched to paste to that one meal that had arsenic in it. The only reason I didn’t require a hospital visit for that one was no doubt because I somehow developed a tolerance for it.”

Arthur briefly paused as he noticed Elaine’s fingers twitching at what he just said earlier before continuing.

“Or maybe it was something else, I don’t know or even care. Either way, I had to go without food for days at a time until I had to go to work with Lance, and in the few times I couldn’t I had to resort to eating the weeds outside.”

He felt Elaine’s grip on his arm tighten slightly and heard her whisper his name. He knew that this is the first time she would be hearing about everything he went through in painful detail.

He hated it.

“Your parents, mainly your father, blamed me for your amnesia, when in actuality the wraith was the one that did it to you. The Peppers, on the other hand, told me multiple times that I should’ve been the one who died that day. It’s true, though. Their son’s life had more meaning than mine, after all. I mean, who would you save? A man that has many connections and a promising life ahead of him, or a screwed-up mechanic that was thrown away by his parents with more issues than the stars in the sky?”

Anything I did to make up for what I’ve done, all that I tried to do to heal the damage I caused, was never enough.

“Arthur, why didn’t you say anything?!” Vivi is crying now, “Why?!”

Arthur gritted his teeth, “You were finally happy after everything that went wrong because of me when you were with that ghost. How could I take that away from you again?”

Vivi is trembling, “Even so, you should’ve told me. I could have done something!”

“Not like I could,” Arthur said as he tossed the heart behind him and jammed a finger at the wraith while keeping his attention towards Vivi, “You were pretty forgetful ever since the incident.”

There was a long silence.

“Arthur, are you saying what I think you just said?” Elaine finally asked before furiously pointing at the wraith, “You mean to tell me that he’s been controlling Yukino’s memory the entire time!?”

The wraith looked away. Honestly, its unnerved Arthur that it was showing such human and Lewis-like mannerisms.

“It did erase her memory of Lewis dying, and then Lewis in general. So it wouldn’t surprise me if it could do more than that,” Arthur said, “Either way, so long as I ‘behaved,’ she wouldn’t know. The least I could do was make sure that it didn’t tamper with her memory anymore that it did.”

“Lewis, just why would you—!” Vivi shook her head before turning back to Arthur, “Then why didn’t you tell your uncle anything?! He could’ve done something to help you, instead!”

“All he’d do is pump that shotgun and make things worse,” Arthur spat, “We were lucky the last time that happened. I’m not risking a repeat.”

The sound of the shotgun is not something Arthur would want to hear again, that’s for sure. Not to mention that in the present, as much as Lance means well, Arthur knows that his uncle could very easily kill the children by accident should he mistake them for monsters like Vivi had, or worse, getting caught in the crossfire.

…He shuddered and struggled not to picture any of his family having big gaping wounds or being outright headless.

If anything, this just means that he can’t trust anyone from Tempo. No one.

It hurt. More than he cares to admit.

“That thing wanted me gone. That thing wanted me to disappear. But you didn’t, Vivi. You had me stay, and so that wraith had to make do with things like this,” he pointed at his own neck before pulling at his right sleeve to show the faint hand-shaped burn on his forearm, “And left me with more reminders of my inability to do anything more than I care to count! But I accepted it. It is my fault, after all. That demon took hold of me and had me kill Lewis. His blood is on my hands even though I never wanted it to happen!”

Vivi fell on her knees and kept crying. Mystery immediately went to her side to see if he could offer any comfort

Arthur can’t deny that seeing her in such a state is rather unsettling, but he can’t look away from it anymore. Upon seeing some movement, Arthur looked up and saw the wraith starting to lift a hand as if it wanted to comfort Vivi, only to immediately back off upon seeing Arthur’s glare.

“…Arthur.”

Something cracked.

“You have every right to hate me.”

Crack.

Arthur shuddered upon hearing the wraith speak and held on to Elaine for support. He looked around briefly to see if Gwen and Percy were still around, and briefly saw red as he noticed his son cradling the wraith’s heart in his hands.

“No number of apologies will ever make up for what I did to you, but I still want to say that I’m sorry.”

Crack.

What is this feeling of… sorrow(?) welling up in his throat. Arthur didn’t want to maintain eye contact with the wraith. That’s how it gets people off guard.

“Before you and your family destroy me, I just want to know. If you hated me that much when you left…”

Crack.

Arthur gritted his teeth.

“Why did you name your children with the names I suggested?”

Crack. Crack.

He didn’t.

- - - - - - -

“Oh wow! Look at this view, Arthur!”

The Mystery Skulls had decided to take a rest stop in Tennessee from their drive home after roughly five hours of riding. The rest stop also happened to have a scenic overlook where one could enjoy the scenery of the mountains from the interstate. It has a good view, Arthur had to admit as he leaned himself forward against the stone fence.

“Although I hear it can’t compare to what the Cantabile Mountains at the other side of the state have to offer,” Lewis laughed, “Maybe in the future we can go look?”

Arthur hummed in agreement, even though he remained more focused on reading a robotics tech magazine he had managed to obtain from a convention when they passed by a larger city the day before. The pages held some interesting ideas for prosthetics, which was something Arthur had taken an interest in as of late. He made sure to fold the corners of the pages he needed to look into later when he gets home.

Upon hearing the sound of a dog barking, Arthur looked behind him to see Vivi and Mystery running around. Mystery had been rather restless, and Arthur didn’t doubt that the bespectacled dog is more than relieved to have the opportunity to stretch his legs.

Upon seeing Vivi look so happy, something ached in Arthur’s chest. He didn’t know what to call it, but he knew better than to talk to her or Lewis about it.

“I know you’ll find someone who will love you, Arthur. I know it.”

“Yeah, right,” Arthur said as he continued to read the tech magazine in his hands, “You know how to cook while having the strength to do pretty much anything. And with Vivi’s appetite, any family you’d have with her will probably enjoy that to their heart’s content. Me? I’ve got none of that.”

“Well, actually, we still had some things to sort out before Vivi and I go that far,” Lewis said after some silence, “I mean, there’s still some stuff to work out before we can do that.”

Arthur looked up from the tech magazine he was reading and saw Vivi doing something with Mystery from the corner of his eye. He didn’t bother to pay full attention to them before shooting a glance at the man next to him. Way to be redundant, Lewis.

“Ah, sorry, I’m losing track. You see, you know I’m adopted, and I have no idea who or where my birth parents are. Don’t get me wrong, I love Mom and Dad, but sometimes I just wonder…” Lewis trailed off before giving Arthur a fearful look, “Ah, wait, that didn’t…! Crap…”

A dark cloud formed over Arthur’s head, and his mood felt worse than it already is.

Although Arthur never looked back when he went to live with his uncle after the nasty divorce between his parents, it never stopped being a sore subject for him. He didn’t deny that he would occasionally feel envious of the families Lewis and Vivi have, but Lewis just sounded so selfish there. At least he had loving parents at all, blood related or not.

Sure, he has his uncle, but sometimes Arthur wondered just what exactly a complete and loving family felt like. Arthur knows that Uncle Lance would do anything to protect him, but he isn’t exactly the best at showing affection, often displaying a gruffer side more than anything else. Arthur sighed, maybe he’s the selfish one.

“Gwen and Percy.”

“Huh?” Arthur gave Lewis an incredulous look in response to his friend’s comment out of the blue.

“If, ah, you ever have a son and a daughter, we could name them that,” Lewis laughed while leaning against the railing, “Not only would they fit in with your name like in the legends, but they’re great names by themselves, I think.”

Arthur blinked in confusion before turning his head away from Lewis, hoping that the latter wouldn’t see the blush forming on his face, “I-I guess, but you know that in order for me to even do that, I’d have to get together with someone first. And even then, I don’t know if I’d be good enough to be a father.” Let alone be a good enough partner, he mentally added with a heavy heart.

This isn’t helping his mood.

Lewis hummed in thought, “I don’t know about that. You’re actually pretty good with my sisters, and you even helped us with Paprika back when Dad and I had that car accident shortly after she was born. Mom even said that if it hadn’t been for you, she might have gone to the hospital herself from overwork. Since you’re a great babysitter, I’d say you’d make a great dad.”

Well, he can’t… deny that. Somewhat.

“Still, you’d make a better parent than me, though.”

Lewis didn’t respond immediately, which made Arthur wonder if he had said it with more bite than he intended. Having to watch Lewis and Vivi being all lovey-dovey and virtually ignoring him outside some quick glances throughout the entire drive to where they are now didn’t help matters. Sometimes, he wondered if they even wanted him around anymore. It hurts more than he’d like to admit.

Still. Him? A father? Someone’s significant other? That’ll be the day.

As far as Arthur knows, he’s most likely ace or aro or whatever the heck the label is called. He had tried to figure out what exactly it is through online research, but with so many terms that seem to get added every week, combined with the rather toxic influence with people saying on what is acceptable and what is not only to find the whole thing turned around on its head, or what is “something-phobic” based on what his initial assumptions on the two (or more) terms were, Arthur never bothered consulting any of the online communities and gave up entirely. To him, it was just more trouble than it’s worth.

Then again, it’s probably not wise asking online strangers for help on something like this anyway. Especially once he started finding posts that essentially held the basic message of being something akin to “this label is like this with these very certain criteria or fuck you and go die,” and even blogs that are said to be devoted to supporting these labels just can’t seem to agree with one another. Do they accept this? Do they accept that? He could never find a consistent answer.

He had thought about finding a counselor that specializes on the subject, but not only are there not any reliable-looking ones within a reasonable driving distance from Tempo, their hourly rates without proper insurance is way too high for someone like him. It’s not that Kingsmen Mechanics doesn’t provide insurance for their employees, it’s not exactly the best for those with mental needs. Lance would sometimes make an annoyed comment about that.

And then there’s the fact that Texas itself, and maybe a good chunk if not all of the remaining forty-nine states, most likely wouldn’t accept anyone outside of whoever is perceived as "hetero-normal" or whatever people call it.

Why the hell am I wasting my time thinking about this. Arthur growled to himself in frustration while trying to be quiet enough for Lewis to not notice.

After struggling to comprehend it all, it just felt so pointless. But he still wants to know why and figure it out for his own peace of mind.

As far as he knows, his name is Arthur Kingsmen, a twenty-two-year-old car mechanic and Lance’s nephew. To him, that’s all that mattered. He knows that he desires a companionship of his own like how Lewis and Vivi have for one another, but he just can’t feel the desire with any of the people he has met so far. Not to mention seeing those two together… hurt. He didn’t know why.

Maybe something is wrong with him, but he can’t impose on Vivi and Lewis like that.

And as far as Arthur also knows, he will be alone for his entire life once he goes out on his own.

He briefly entertained the idea of meeting someone, falling in love, getting married, and starting a family… but he knows that’s a mere pipe dream.

His heart ached.

…

One last case.

Just one last case, and then he will leave.

And finally go out on his own.

- - - - - - -

“Or… more accurately, why did you name them after Vivi and… after me?”

Gwen Vivi, Percy Lewis, and Vivian Lulu. The first and middle names he had given to his three children in memory of the two people he cared about.

The wall broke.

“How dare you.”

“What?”

“How dare you claim those names,” Arthur’s hands balled up into fists as angry tears leaked from his eyes, “The one who suggested those names is dead. Dead and gone. Buried!”

He glared at the wraith. He won’t fail to keep eye contact this time. He has Elaine with him, she can stop the wraith if need be.

“You can’t have them,” he seethed, “You’re not taking them to be your playthings. I won’t let you hurt them like you hurt me.”

“I would never hurt them! Why would—”

“They’re not just mine, but Elaine’s, too. Unlike me, she has nothing to do with you or any of this. I’m not going to let her get hurt because of me.”

As soon as Arthur said those words, a loud audible crack could be heard. When Arthur looked to see the source of the noise, he saw Percy still holding the heart, now nearly black in color, and open. Annoyed, Arthur took the open locket from his son’s hands and looked inside to see what it was that made the children’s faces so pale.

...

…The thing felt putrid in his hands. Filthy.

“Gwen. Percy,” Arthur said calmly, “Go to your nana. Stay by Vivian’s side. Don’t let her come in here.”

The twins looked at one another nervously.

“Please.”

It was clear that they didn’t want to, but they obeyed. After waiting a moment to make sure the twins were out of sight and hopefully out of hearing range, the fury Arthur felt slowly started to rise. Gwen and Percy, and maybe Jason, shouldn’t have seen what was inside the locket. They are not to be involved over past issues such as this.

Arthur tossed the locket at Vivi and Mystery’s feet in disgust before clutching the moon pin on his vest, “As soon as you asked me that damn question, I couldn't take it anymore. That’s why I left.”

Vivi’s eyes widened, looking torn and shaken as she picked up the locket, “Wait, you mean tha--that was all it took? Just because that we--, that I asked you out on a date?"

“That’s right,” he said as he made the move to hold Elaine’s left hand with his own, knowing that her wedding ring was visible for Vivi and the wraith to see. He then took a moment to glance at the wraith to make sure it wouldn’t get any stupid ideas before choosing to ignore the look of guilt on its face, “Lewis was your boyfriend, not me. I never wanted you projecting on the third wheel when Lewis went missing or died to be more accurate. You belonged to him.”

“Hey, I belong to no one by my own damn self, thank you very much,” Vivi snapped, “No one but I can decide what my relationships are, not some random person I don’t have any memory with anymore!” She sighed with frustration, “Did you seriously think I would flirt with someone I wasn’t interested in?!”

“Playfully, maybe. Since that’s what friends do,” Arthur shrugged as he held Elaine’s hand closer to himself, “It was still wrong, though--”

“I wanted us to be more than friends even before all that, Arthur!”

…Arthur really wished Vivi didn’t just say that.

“Wait, hold on. Let me make sure I got this straight,” Elaine raised her free hand to point a finger at Vivi, “You, Vivi Yukino, wanted to make Arthur your boyfriend even though you were already taken, and you had your memory of Lewis back when you asked Arthur that question?”

“You can have more than one significant other in a relationship,” Vivi explained, “Sure, there was a huge stigma for polyamorous relationships even back then, but we weren’t going to let that get in the way.”

Arthur risked a glance at the wraith. Curiously, it kept its head hung down, not looking at anyone. He really, really didn’t like the way it’s presenting itself right now, looking like a scolded child. Lewis would have that exact same expression in the few times he had been scolded by Vivi for some reason, and that disturbed him more than he cares to admit.

When Arthur thought about the past, he knew what it was that had become so painful for him whenever he saw Lewis and Vivi being together as partners. He wanted to be a part of that circle, but he knew that deep down, it was entirely selfish of him to want such a thing. What made it worse was that he didn’t even realize it was love he was feeling for Vivi and Lewis until he had realized his feelings for Elaine when she won his heart.

Well, even then, it’s too little, too late. Lewis is gone and dating Vivi after learning of the former’s fate would just be an insult to the dead. Plus, he didn’t want Vivi to project Lewis through him. In the end, there is no point in reminiscing the past or wondering about how things would’ve gone had Lewis not died, had the Mystery Skulls not gone into that cave.

What’s done is done.

“Before I died,” Arthur stiffened upon hearing the wraith speak, “Vivi and I had discussed our feelings for one another and for Arthur once we realized it. We even tried giving him hints and even flirted with him at times, but he always seemed to miss them every time. We were beginning to think he was ace/aro at that point.”

It took a lot of willpower on Arthur’s part to keep himself from shuddering. Shut up. Stop talking.

“Um, yeah, as far as I know, Arthur never knew how to flirt,” Elaine said with a somewhat exasperated breath, “I just kept inviting him to weekly dates and tested the waters little by little with his consent until I knew how he clicked. We were friends first, then we started dating casually, then seriously, and then to where we are now.”

Unlike what happed with Vivi and Lewis, Elaine was never subtle about her feelings for me. Even though I never knew how to flirt, even I could pick up the cues she was giving me. She always told me that she liked me, that she cared, and that she wanted me around. She invited me to cafes, to parks, to the mountain ranges, to peaceful places. She acted like my life mattered. Whenever she took a step forward, she would talk to me. She would communicate with me. I would have never confessed to her had she’d not done that.

I stopped bothering with the labels. It’s pointless. All that matters is that I know my name, and I love Elaine. That’s it.

“Eventually, we decided to just outright tell him after we finished exploring the cave,” Vivi averted her eyes with a sad expression, “But you know that never came to pass.”

Upon hearing those words, Arthur’s chest ached with a familiar sensation of doubt and a heavy tightness as he looked at his left arm. The awful feeling of loneliness, conflicted feelings, and a heartbreak that never completely went away. Arthur quietly took a deep breath. He would be lying if he were to admit that he didn’t feel anything for Vivi and Lewis anymore, but most of the desire had faded. He felt nothing for the wraith.

He gave his heart to Elaine. He won’t betray her like that. He won’t let her go through such heartbreak ever again.

“I see,” Elanie sighed as she gave Arthur’s hand a squeeze, letting him know she’s still with him, “Since we’re on the subject, perhaps you can actually answer this question since both your parents and the Peppers didn’t give me the full story. From what they told me; things have ‘gone straight to hell’ when Arthur left your lives.”

Arthur could’ve sworn he saw one of Elaine’s eyes glow when he saw her narrow her gaze at Vivi.

“What happened in Tempo after that?”

Neither Vivi nor the wraith responded. They just looked down in shame. Arthur didn’t see a reason to pity them anymore.

“I guess it’s my turn to explain things.”

Arthur nearly jumped when he heard Mystery speak. Had he seriously forgotten that the kitsune disguised as a dog is still around? Even though he was right beside Vivi the whole time.

“Go on,” Elaine looked down at the dog with contempt, “And do not leave out a single detail. Tell me everything.”

“Very well,” Mystery took a deep breath, “As we’ve said before, it all started when Vivi got the phone call from Lance. None of us knew that Arthur had left for a ‘solo vacation’ after he finished his work here. So when Lance called police to help locate Arthur, he came to our place. That’s when he found all the evidence that clued us in that Arthur had been abused by Lewis ever since we reunited. While Vivi’s memory issues is one thing, I do not have any excuse for not noticing Arthur’s pain. I was too focused on watching out for Vivi’s health as I am bound to her.”

A hitched breath from Vivi caught Arthur’s attention. She looks angry, “After you left, when I found out about what my parents and the Peppers… and Lewis have done to you, I was livid. I told them all that if they had to blame someone, they should’ve blamed me.

“I am the leader of the Mystery Skulls, so the wellbeing of everyone was my responsibility. I failed to do that when we went to that cave. If I hadn’t brought us there, or if I hadn’t brushed off your concerns, or had I not suggested we split up,” Vivi sighed before continuing, “Or had Lewis and I talked with you about our feelings before instead of after that cave, then none of this would have happened to us. The one that caused the series of events that led to Lewis getting killed was me. So it’s my fault, Arthur. Not yours. If anything, I should’ve been the one receiving all that abuse from Lewis and the others instead of you. Not that it makes things any better, of course, but still.”

Don’t say that. Don’t say that Lewis is--

“Continuing from where we left off, Vivi and I were trying to search for you by checking whatever leads we could get. All we knew from the police reports was that you had taken a bus to a route leading out to the east of Tempo, transferred a few times within the span of two days, and then boarded a bus that was reported to have dropped you off somewhere in the mountains of Tennessee,” Mystery said, “We elected to have Lewis stay behind since we couldn’t trust him with your wellbeing, but that became our worst mistake.”

The wraith looked at the blue box in its hand, “The demon that killed me… was still around. It took hold of my father and almost killed Paprika by putting a knife to her throat. If I hadn’t been around, then she would’ve died. Vivi was able to save him by,” the wraith shuddered, “By freezing his hand off, but then the demon took hold of me. My mother got caught in the crossfire when she was taking my father and sisters to safety.”

A chill went up in Arthur’s spine. He knew that experience firsthand. A human falling under possession is one thing, but anything that actually has powers that normal people like him aren’t capable of doing? He glanced at Elaine to see how she’s faring and could only feel somewhat relieved upon seeing that she hasn’t changed her scrutiny of the Mystery Skulls.

Although Arthur shuddered that the wraith just kept talking, he didn’t know if it was from hearing it speak or finally knowing why Mrs. Pepper’s body is so full of burn scars. The burns he received from the wraith were tame in comparison. For him, he could just hide them under his clothes. Mrs. Pepper, not so much.

“Vivi and Mystery were able to expel the demon from me, but then Vivi’s grandmother sealed me within my home.”

“Obaa-san said that the seal could be broken by ‘only those that come after in blood of whose soul you’ve hurt,’” Vivi quotes with her fingers, “Since Arthur was hurt by Lewis, Mystery and I knew that we needed him to break it. But there’s one thing I don’t quite understand, Arthur didn’t go anywhere near where Lewis was, so how was the seal broken?”

Vivi, stop calling that thing Lew—

“…Arthur’s children,” Mystery perked up in realization, “If we take ‘only those that come after in blood’ to mean his descendants, then they easily fill the criteria since they’re descended from his bloodline. I do remember Fuyuko-sama once saying that Arthur is an ‘herbivore,’ so to speak. She may have intended for the conditions of removing the seal to be impossible, as she may have thought that Arthur would never have a child, let alone get together with someone. It makes sense.”

Arthur and Elaine looked at one another briefly, the former feeling very uncomfortable. Neither of them liked the fact that Gwen, Percy, and Vivian have more involvement than they thought.

“Well, either way,” Vivi sighed before crossing her arms, “Since Lewis is here, that means all we need to do now is find the demon that tore us apart and cursed this town, and then we can finally end this nightmare. And then once we take that thing once and for all, we all just… talk. Hopefully patch up things and then just,” she let a hard breath, “I don’t know, go from there.”

Getting rid of that wraith would be a real good start.

“About the demon,” the wraith said, “Before your grandmother sealed me, I managed to take it down with me. It was actually because of it that I… ended up learning of everything it made Arthur do to kill me, and then how it caught up to us before we managed to briefly defeat it.”

There was a silence.

“Wait, what the fuck?” Vivi’s voice is steadily rising in volume, “Mystery and I were looking for that thing ever since Arthur left, and you mean to tell me that it’s been with you the entire time?! That thing was torturing the town for over seventeen years!”

“I didn’t even know it’s been seventeen years until Gwen and Percy told me right after the seal was broken! Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to process that?! They were will filling me in on what I had missed and were just about to get to my sisters until you all came in!” It held up the blue box in it hand, “I held on to this ever since Paprika gave it to me!”

Who gave you the right to call them by their names? Arthur bit his lip in anger. They’re not yours.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait, hold up, hold up,” Elaine let go of Arthur and put herself between Vivi and the wraith before giving the latter a pointed look, “To make sure I have this straight. You had been sealed by Yukino’s grandmother, along with the demon, right?”

“Yes...”

“And my and Arthur’s children had broken that seal, therefore freeing you.”

“That’s… right.”

“So if you’re here, then where’s the demon now?”

Arthur’s blood went cold. He looked behind him before running out of the room.

The kids!

As he ran, his anger could not be contained. As a father, he will do whatever it takes to keep his children safe for their sake, and for Elaine’s.

The wraith is too dangerous to keep around.

- - - - - - -

The hunt is over!

And now you are mine!

Hide in shadows give you safety, baby...

But not this time!

...

...

...

You really like to think the contrary, don’t you?

Part 20: Your Enemy???! 

[oplishin]

what happened with the forge?

:DDDD thank you for asking!!!

also do NOT try this at home... or at all....

So I went on a church retreat last weekend, and we have an annual campfire thing. In Feb 2020, we also made a forge:

We did it by stacking firewood into a box shape and pushing around the hot embers to the bottom. To make it really hot there were always a couple of guys intensely fanning the forge with big cardboard sheets. (Someone got a giant plastic lid to do it, but he broke it on the side of the firepit and it cut his hand fsbdjhf) There's an abandoned construction site near the retreat place that has a ton of random metal stuff and pipe parts, so 2 guys hammered a metal bar into a bendy shape (2020).

So forge 2021:

It started when Senior #1 went out to the abandoned construction site to look for parts (we hadn't really explored it last year). I went with him to help him with flashlight stuff (quote me: "I've never felt more like an npc"). The initial plan was to make a bellows(?) out of some tubes to push the air into the fire more efficiently. Anyway, senior #1 fiddled around with that for a while and asked his friends to do it while he went to build the actual forge part.

I mostly work on the bellows part by reprising my role as the flashlight and following Senior #2 around. to move the air around we found a ton of cardboard circles that would hopefully fit into the outer tube and on top of the inner one. They did not. So, we decided to find something to cut them with. Senior #2 finds a rusty saw??? and decides he doesn't care about tetanus I guess. That doesn't work, but some 8th grader brought a knife to a church retreat for some reason, so we use that instead. It takes like an hour (we're also looking for pipes that will notch together into a funnel but they're all the wrong sizes), and the bellows ultimately doesn't work out so :| we head back to the fire.

While we were looking around we could hear the sound of people smacking metal against metal really fucking loudly, so they'd already basically finished building it. Instead of using firewood like last year, the seniors just took apart half the fire pit's bricks and stacked them into a box to put the embers into. Fan slaves are fanning. Somehow they found a pickaxe???

The process is basically heating up a really thin metal pipe (rusty and we also found it at the construction site I presume) for 20 seconds before taking it out, holding it down with the pickaxe and smacking it with a rusty metal bar they found (also at the construction site). It's mostly senior #1 and his friend (senior #3) doing the work, both of them are shirtless, probably because it's hot but mostly because. buff teenage boy syndrome??

Side note 1+3 were both Eagle Scouts so this isn’t THAT weird… but it’s pretty weird

the plan is to make some knives, which I actually have footage of:

Red pants is senior 1, green shoes is senior 3.

I think here they were cutting off the tip of the first knife? We made 2 knives, by we I mean senior 1+3 did all the work while I did lighting. They flatten the blade as best they can, senior 1 is a total perfectionist so it’s actually pretty cool. They lightly hammer the handle. At some point senior 1 gets some particle from the hammering in his eye.

We also made a botched cross looking thing? Quote:

Senior 1: “CUT IT OFF!!”

Senior 3: “you’re just a hater!!” /s

Senior 1: “oh my god- I’m sticking it into the fire”

I should mention that Senior 1 is just sticking the metal pipe into fire with his bare hands because the tongs don’t have enough grip.

Senior one really wants to make a ring for some reason, but senior 3 is totally done with this cuz his hand hurts from whacking the thing for like 2 hours (it’s 11pm I think). They use a sliver of metal they cut off from the second knife.

The plan is to try to hammer it against a thin pipe to bend it into a circle? I thought it was a bad idea because it was much thicker than senior 1’s finger. I think what he actually did was whack it at certain angles. It wasn’t very good metal so it was easy (he said he thought it was mostly aluminum). It was barely more than a half circle and very janky, but also very awesome.

He sanded it down for around an hour while I held the flashlight and held down the rusty metal bar (same one used for whacking).

Senior 1+3 give the knives to 2 8th graders because they’re irresponsible I guess.

Here’s a very chaotic picture:

[cami-chats]

Not the fun kind of handcuffs

Created for @ladiesofmarvelbingo

Name: Not the fun kind of handcuffs

Square: W2-Handcuffs

Warning(s): Kidnapped, mild injury

Pairing: None

Summary: Kate gets kidnapped by a bunch of amateurs. More embarrassing for them than her, thank god.

Link: AO3

Kate Bishop, sort of private investigator and the best of the two Hawkeyes, woke up with one arm handcuffed to a pipe. And these weren't the fun kind of handcuffs that were fur lined-- for people that didn't know what they were doing-- or made of leather-- for the people that knew what they were doing but she still wasn't into because seriously, who wanted to try and get off when your hands were bound? She had to deal with that enough in her job, she didn't need it during fun time too. 

She was still in her Hawkeye outfit which was good, but there was a cut swelling on her lip and an impressive headache forming behind her eyes. It was kinda weird that only one hand was cuffed instead of both of them, but she wasn't going to complain when it left her other hand free. 

Free to, for example, grab the bobby pin out from under her headband to pick the lock. It was pretty damn easy, and she took another look around to make sure she wasn't about to get brained and tied to the pipe again but with both hands out of order. Kate rotated her wrist, checking it for any pain; nope, she was good. 

I spy with my little Hawk-eye... her bag with all the goodies in it (which was highly suspicious), a rusty piece of rebar that would probably give her tetanus, dripping water that explained the smell of mold, and a single door that didn't have a lock. There was a bit of a shadow coming in from the hallway, so that meant- what, two guards? That seemed kinda stupid considering they left her everything. 

When Kate tried to stand, the room spun and she almost tripped on her face. Luckily, she was smarter than Clint so she just sat down before the sound of her falling body warned the guards that she was awake. Crawling to her bag it was. She took quick stock and found everything where she'd left it, and it didn't look like anything nefarious had been added. Well, nothing that she could see, but that didn't mean it wasn't there. That was a problem for future-Kate, the poor asshole. 

Outside, one of the guards cleared his throat and muttered to his buddy, "Hey look sharp, boss is coming." 

Kate quickly grabbed an arrow and straightened. Still on her knees, she nocked it in place on her bow and pointed it at the door, aiming where the bozo's chest would probably be. If he was short, well, that was another problem for future-Kate. Like, seven seconds in the future-Kate. 

When the door opened, the boss guy-- little under six foot, white skin and blonde hair, nothing to get distracted over-- he looked surprised that she was out, then confused. "That's not Hawkeye." 

Wow screw you too, you couldn't even manage to kidnap the right person?, she thought inwardly, though outwardly she just grinned. "I am too, fucker."